


Falling Stars

by MareNubium



Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Drug Use, M/M, Minor Violence, Self-Harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-02
Updated: 2021-02-26
Packaged: 2021-03-08 02:07:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 25
Words: 240,998
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26527969
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MareNubium/pseuds/MareNubium
Summary: Obito only has one goal, to graduate and then leave the god forsaken town for good. All those faces, the judgmental eyes, the laughter, the ridicule, years of pretending they don’t affect him, he’s absolutely sick of it all. He wants nothing more than to leave that miserable place controlling his every will. That is until he meets Kakashi, a boy whose world is more than meets the eye.
Relationships: Hatake Kakashi/Uchiha Obito
Comments: 461
Kudos: 565





	1. Chapter 1

“Why don’t you introduce yourself to the class?”

Kakashi breaks his gaze away from the teacher, eyes moving from one seated student to another. Most of them look completely uninterested. A few girls offer him friendly smiles. He suddenly thinks about his old school, wondering if any of his previous classmates even realized he was gone. Would it be any different here?

 _Probably not_ , Kakashi thinks plainly to himself. He always found it difficult trying to relate to others, and others found him difficult to stay around. He thinks people care too much, sometimes too little. The few friends he did make never seemed to stick around for too long, but Kakashi finds that it doesn’t really bother him too much. Perhaps it’s more natural for him to be alone.

He figures that if he’s going to make a first impression, he might as well make it memorable. It’ll be the only thing people will give a shit about when they inevitably forget about him later in the year.

“I’m Kakashi,” he announces to the class, giving a shallow bow. “I got kicked out of my old school for setting the auditorium on fire, my idea of entertainment is accusing random students of sleeping with their teachers, I’m off my meds, and I can’t stand the taste of coffee.” He then gives his most pleasant smile, meeting eyes with a rather terrified-looking girl sitting in the front row. The rest of the class seems to share the same expression. He lets out a small laugh. “You can all have fun trying to figure out which one of those statements is true.”

Silence is their response, and Kakashi has to fight off the urge to smirk.

“Should I be expecting any trouble from you, Mr. Hatake?” the teacher asks with hardened eyes as she peers at him over her thin glasses. Kakashi merely shrugs in response. “I’m going to give you one more chance to introduce yourself again. _Properly_.”

“Can I just sit down?” Kakashi asks instead, suddenly feeling compelled to leave the classroom. He’d much rather fade into the background now that he’s collectively scarred each student in his class. “Most of these guys are going to forget my name by the end of the year anyways. There’s no point.”

“I don’t know how they did things at your old school, but I can assure you that in this classroom, I will not tolerate any further offenses,” his teacher replies, but she gestures towards an empty seat towards the back of the class anyways. “You will take us seriously here, Hatake Kakashi.”

“Whatever,” he mumbles mostly to himself as he heads towards the designated desk, dropping his bag onto the floor. The students surrounding him seem to tense up as he walks by. None of them care, he’s quickly reminded. Kakashi notices that the girl in the desk to his left is watching him with curious eyes.

_She has his eyes._

Kakashi forces himself to look away, shaking his head and dropping into his seat. He pulls his earphones out of his pocket with the other, plugging them into his ears. He turns his music up to the highest volume, but when he looks up, he realizes that all the students in the classroom are looking at him.

_They don’t like you._

Kakashi swallows, pulling his hood up over his head.

_This place is going to eat you alive._

-

A series of curses pass through Obito’s lips as he reaches over the side of his bed in an attempt to grab his winter coat through the darkness of his room. His phone’s alarm is still ringing somewhere in the depths of his room, an annoying, high-pitched siren that only works to hammer at the ache currently harassing his head. Once his hand finally clutches the familiar feeling of his coat, he slips it on, content with ignoring the alarm now that he could muffle the noise with his hood. But the alarm continues to ring, and it seems to increase in volume, cutting through the silence Obito had prayed for.

He does not want to get up.

The heater in their house is – has been broken for about two weeks now, and the air around him is too cold to breathe in without wincing. His toes manage to feel frozen, sealed together even under the thick covers of his blankets, and the very idea of even getting out of bed stirs his gut with dread. He exhales through his teeth, finding that to his horror, he can see his breath in the air.

Grumbling something about how much his life sucks, Obito slowly rolls out of bed, landing lazily on his knees. He begins to feel across the ground for his phone, grimacing at the feel of dust and dirt settling under his fingernails as he moved. He reaches beneath his bed, flinching when he finally finds his phone, its surface as cold as ice. He turns the alarm off with a tired huff, slipping the phone into his pocket and standing up.

Obito glances around the room, scratching at his hair as he searched for his sweats. On his way to the closet he rips his window curtains open, allowing the gray light of the Monday morning sun into his dark and damp room. He finds a pair of joggers, immediately pulling them over his legs before trudging out of his room.

He gazes at his poor excuse of a living room, the television that was left on in the corner softly playing the news. Obito walks across the hall to his little sister’s room, amused to find that she is still asleep. With a fond smile, the older male quietly enters the room, hovering over her bed.

He gently shakes her shoulder. “Izumi,” he says, watching as his little sister lets out a tired groan. “It’s time to wake up and get ready. I’m taking you to school.”

Izumi lets out a loud yawn, stretching her arms over her head but immediately regretting it upon feeling just how cold it is. She stares up at Obito with bleary eyes. “Where’s dad?” she asks as Obito turns to leave the room.

“Sleeping,” he answers by the door frame without hesitating, sending her a smile that does not quite reach his eyes. “Now hurry up and get ready before I leave without you.”

Izumi waves him off, and Obito takes that as his cue to leave, closing the door behind him. He stares back at the television in the living room, playing the morning news in a hushed and almost mournful tone. A deep sigh escapes his lips as his feet drag him towards the end of the hall. He pulls the door to his father’s room shut, trying his best to ignore the bitter taste on his tongue or the brief sight of his father’s empty bed.

He goes to the kitchen and tosses two slices of bread in the toaster, ignoring all the dirty dishes that sat in the sink. The T.V. continues to quietly play in the background, and Obito takes this time to blankly watch the screen. He tries to remember the road to Izumi’s school and how far it is from his own school. Obito is well aware that if he drives Izumi to school, he’ll be late for his own classes. He’d not only be late to class, but he’d also have no work to show up with, as all his assignments remained untouched in his bag.

He stuffs a hand into his pocket and feels around, disappointed to find nothing there. Obito vaguely wonders if he should just skip school entirely for the day and search for Genma.

His thoughts are interrupted by the sound of the toaster. Obito takes the toasted bread out and works on spreading peanut butter over it. Izumi walks in, her hair in twin braids and uniform neatly tucked. She sends him a thankful smile when he hands her the sandwich.

“Did you eat?” she asks when Obito moves to wash the dishes in the sink.

Obito merely hums in response, lazily sponging the dishes and washing them off before discarding each on the drying rack. “Anything new at school?” he asks her instead, and from the corner of his eye he can see her chewing stop.

Izumi shrugs in a casual manner. “…My homeroom teacher just had a baby, so now we have a new teacher. I don’t really like the new one that much, but he’s okay, I guess.”

Obito nods, turning the sink off. “How are your classes?”

“Okay…” she answers, and Obito raises an eyebrow at her. “Well, I’m doing better than you.”

Obito rolls his eyes, grabbing the car keys from the counter and gesturing for his sister to follow him. “It’s not that hard to do better than me,” Obito remarks, leading them to the front door.

Izumi takes another bite out of her sandwich before poking him in the arm. “Are you going to go to school today?”

Obito glances up at the sky as they leave the house, noting the dark clouds and the impending weather. “How do you know I haven’t been?”

Izumi shrugs again, her braids bouncing with each step. “You’re always right outside of my school when classes are over. That wouldn’t happen if you actually went to school. You’re probably going to be late today, too, because you’re driving me.”

Obito scoffs as if the accusation is ridiculous, but he knows he’s been caught. “Since when did you notice?” Obito asks, a bit amused as they get into his car. “You should be studying instead of stalking me.”

Izumi rolls her eyes. “You should be going to school instead of skipping.”

“I do go to school,” Obito lies as he starts the car, and Izumi only rolls her eyes again. “I really do. I just don’t go to class.” He laughs when Izumi smacks him in the arm.

She suddenly raises her pinky up. “Promise me you’ll go to class today?” she asks him.

Obito raises an eyebrow at her, so she drops her finger. “I’m already going to be late.”

“I know,” she says, a bit annoyed, “but it’s not good for you. Why do you do it?” She stares at him as pointedly as possible, but Obito ignores her question anyways. She huffs, crossing her arms in a petulant manner. “Mom wouldn’t have let you skipped.”

“Mom also lives halfway across the world, so she can’t really stop me, can she?” he retorts back. He can feel Izumi’s glare burning holes into his head. “Fine,” Obito finally gives in, reaching over briefly to flick her in the forehead. “I’ll go to class today. Just make sure you catch a bus home, okay?”

Izumi lets out a small whine, rubbing her forehead in annoyance. “Mom wouldn’t have flicked me in the forehead,” she points out, but her shoulders relax at his promise.

“Mom wouldn’t have let you wear a skirt that short either.”

“I hate you,” she mutters, but there’s a smile on her face anyways.

-

Obito is disappointed when he does not find Genma lazing around the back of the school when he arrives. The other student probably went to class, which Obito does not want to do, so he plays with the idea of sleeping in his car for the rest of the day. Izumi briefly reappears in his mind, his little sister’s request for him to actually go to class repeating over and over again until his guilt wins him over. Obito heaves a reluctant sigh as he decides to humor his sister’s spirit, entering the school as slowly as possible.

 _At least it’s warm in here,_ Obito thinks to himself as he drags his feet across the hall. He thinks back to this morning, to how incessantly cold it was inside his room. They should really get it fixed, but Obito is pretty sure their dad spends all the shit he earns on equally shitty investments. Obito knows that he’ll probably have to be the one to call in someone to repair it for them, but he’ll have to wait until at least next month, after their mom sends in some more money.

Obito sighs, his mood soured by his thoughts. This town is shit, which isn’t a secret. He feels sorry for everyone living here, and all he wants is a ticket out. Not just for him, but for his little sister, too. She deserves more than a fucking peanut butter sandwich.

Obito stops walking, staring blankly as he stands before the closed door of his history class. _This is a bad idea,_ he immediately thinks, because showing up to class both unashamedly late and in a shitty mood was just a recipe for disaster. But he had nowhere else to go and it seems as if the school is the only building in existence with a working heater, so he opens the door and steps inside.

“Uchiha Obito,” his teacher greets from the front of the class, and Obito lets out a curse beneath his breath when he watches as every student in the classroom turns their attention on him, “so nice of you to join us today.” He resists the urge to roll his eyes, instead moving his head to offer her a stiff nod of acknowledgement. “Do you have a pass?” 

A vein seems to pulsate in his forehead at the stupid question, so Obito makes a show of checking his pockets, his shoes, hair, everything before pulling out his middle finger for her to see. A few snickers pass around the classroom as Obito stands defiantly by the door.

His teacher turns back to the chalkboard. “Very well. I’ll see you in detention, Mr. Uchiha.”

Obito snorts, holding his other middle finger up as well before moving towards a seat in the back. The rest of the class had already turned back to watch whatever the teacher was writing on the board.

He plans to spend the rest of the period sleeping, heading for the farthest seat in the farthest corner. A frown overcomes his face when he sees that the seat is already occupied by some kid, a hoodie obscuring most of their face. Obito lets his backpack slip off his shoulders and onto the ground beside the desk, loudly, eyeing the figure wearily. A few students glance over in curiosity, but the teacher doesn’t seem to notice.

“Hey,” Obito utters, but the student’s eyes remain trained on the chalk board up front. “That’s my seat,” he says.

The kid doesn’t even flinch. In fact, he doesn’t even seem to notice that Obito is there at all. More students are looking now.

“Hey,” Obito says again, a little louder this time. “Get up.”

Still no movement.

 _…What the fuck?_ Obito thinks, leaning over a little and waving a hand in front of the other student’s face. The latter blinks, eyes flickering over to stare at Obito in confusion.

“What?” the student questions, but it sounds more like a statement.

“Obito, Kakashi, is there a problem?” the teacher calls out from the front of the class, hands on her hips as she scrutinizes the two teens.

Obito ignores her. “That’s my seat, asshole. So could you kindly fuck off?”

The Kakashi kid lets out something that sounds like a cross between a scoff and a laugh. It irritates Obito even more. “Yeah?” He smirks. _“Make me.”_

Something about the phrase pricks Obito in the head. Whatever shred of self-control he owns snaps in half as his hands move for him, grabbing the kid’s arms and shoving him off the chair.

The class lets out a collective gasp as the teacher screams for Obito to apologize. The latter merely takes his seat at the desk, completely ignoring the student that is now on the floor. He feels his head begin to ache a little in annoyance as he watches the teacher storm towards him, shouting empty words of discipline that no one is really listening to.

Obito is so absorbed with watching his teacher’s face turn red that he doesn’t notice the other student getting up, the other student removing his hoodie, the other student lunging towards him. He doesn’t notice until he’s suddenly tumbling to the ground, head smacking against the floor with a very loud, very painful-sounding thud. His mind spins a bit as it attempts to register what just happened, but he doesn’t have enough time to react before he receives a punch to the face. And another. And another.

Students jump out of their seats, cheering as they watch the two roll around the ground. The teacher shrieks, running out of the classroom in search for help. Obito receives another punch to the jaw, slamming his head against the foot of a desk in the process, effectively snapping him back into his senses. He grabs Kakashi’s fists before they could connect again, flipping them over and jabbing him in the nose.

The other student lets out a yelp, pushing at Obito’s shoulders in an attempt to shove him off. “The nose is off limits, asshole,” he sneers.

“Why?” Obito goads as Kakashi squirms beneath him. “I _fixed_ it.”

The classroom fills with hollers as Kakashi finally manages to shove Obito off, the former stumbling clumsily onto his feet. Obito quickly does the same, bracing himself for another blow as Kakashi lunges towards him again. They crash into a nearby desk, the girl occupying it screaming and scrambling away. Blood flies and spit spews in different directions, students cheering the tangled mess of fists and kicks on. Bets are being shouted but Obito cannot hear them over the ringing in his ears. His eyes meet Kakashi’s for a brief second, and Kakashi takes that moment of hesitation to spit a glob of mucus directly into his pupils.

Obito flinches away, a leg coming up and kicking the other student in the chest. “What the hell?” he practically barks, rubbing at his eyes in an attempt to wipe the spit out. “What are you, a fucking animal?”

Kakashi sticks a middle finger up. “Suck a dick,” he hisses before grabbing a book off of a desk and hurling it towards the older male. Obito ducks out the way but does not have enough time to dodge Kakashi’s next assault, which sends both the desk and their bodies toppling to the ground.

Two security guards burst in with the teacher in tow, immediately rushing towards the fight and ripping them apart. Kakashi pulls at Obito’s jacket, a few threads coming loose as he’s dragged away. The class lets out a sound of collective disappointment.

Obito coughs out a mixture of both blood and spit, body tense but compliant, knowing that it’s over. He watches through blurry vision as Kakashi thrashes against his own guard’s arms, apparently not finished with trying to strangle Obito. Maybe he’s gone insane, but the sight alone causes Obito to laugh, even as the teacher begins to scream at them. He jerks himself out of the guard’s hands, sending a middle finger towards Kakashi’s general direction as he leaves the room, escorting himself to the principal’s office.

-

Obito leans back against his cushioned seat, eyeing the principal with a bored look on his face. He sneaks a glance over at Kakashi, who is sitting in the seat adjacent to him, the other student looking just as indifferent despite holding a bouquet of tissues against his bleeding nose. They both look fucked up, and paired with the principal’s hardened glare, Obito somehow finds this scene hilarious. He begins to laugh, immediately regretting it when his jaw strains from the pressure. Kakashi gives him an odd look that causes him to laugh even more. He definitely feels odd, because for some reason he respects the fact that Kakashi nearly broke his jaw.

“Is something about this situation funny to you, Uchiha Obito?” the principal snaps, his tone tight as if the man is seconds away from strangling the two of them. “This is the third fight you’ve been in in this year alone. I don’t think you’re in the position to be laughing right now.”

Obito sobers up a bit, but his smirk remains.

The principal lets out a deep sigh of irritation, giving Obito a pointed look before turning his attention to the other student. “You, Hatake Kakashi—” Obito somehow finds the alliteration hilarious too, and his giggles seem to further infuriate the principal, “—I had higher expectations for you than this. It’s your first day here and you’ve already gotten into a fight? Should I expect more?”

Kakashi looks up. “Probably,” he says, but his voice sounds nasally from holding the tissues against his nose. Obito laughs again.

“I will hear no more of your laughter, Uchiha Obito,” the principal warns, and Obito opts for covering his mouth with his hand. “Kakashi, I’m sure you know that this school will not tolerate this kind of behavior. I do not want to see another incident like this, understand?”

Kakashi glances over at Obito, a doubtful look in his eyes at the principal’s words. “Sure,” he replies, dropping the tissues and tossing them into a nearby trash bin.

“Since it’s your first day here I’ll let you off with a warning, but I _will_ be calling your parents,” the principal finishes, gesturing towards the phone. Kakashi only shrugs as the man turns to deal with Obito. “And you, Uchiha, I’m sick of seeing you here—”

“So am I,” Obito quips, and this time Kakashi snorts, blood spewing from his nose from the action. Obito watches in amusement as the other grabs for more tissues.

“Oh, you think this is funny?” the principal says with a glower. “You’re suspended for the rest of the week.”

Obito expects that much. “I’m honored.”

“The next time I see you here, it will be an expulsion.”

Obito freezes at that. “A _what_?”

“You’ll be expelled,” the principal reiterates, face stone and completely void of any emotion.

“What the hell?” Obito practically shrieks, standing up from his seat, suddenly panicked. There is no way he could get expelled. The closest high school after this one is another town over, and it’s a damn private school. He sure as hell couldn’t afford a prissy private school. Both mentally and financially. “You can’t do that!”

“I think he can,” Kakashi utters, and Obito automatically flips him off.

“Sit down,” the principal commands, and Obito drops to his seat. “You can’t just skip multiple classes and then get into a fight when you come back without expecting consequences. I’ve given you plenty of chances already. This is your last one.”

The look in the principal’s eyes indicates that there will be no further arguing, and Obito slumps his shoulders in defeat. His jaw begins to ache again and he’s pretty sure his eye is swelling up with a black eye. He glances over at Kakashi, who is still nursing his nose, and lets out a sigh.

“Fine,” Obito mutters, eyes on the ground as he thinks about Izumi. He couldn’t even bear the possibility of telling Izumi he’s been expelled from school. It would break the girl’s heart.

“I will be calling your father, too, about this situation,” the principal says as he reaches for the phone. “You two are dismissed.”

Obito blows a strand of hair out of his face. “Great. If you reach him, tell him I told him to go fuck himself,” he spits, pushing out of his seat and exiting the room. Obito could vaguely hear the principal’s irritated sigh as he slams the door shut behind him.

-

Kakashi hisses in pain as he touches his busted lip, the taste of blood seeping onto his tongue. The principal ended up leaving Kakashi with a warning since it is his first day of school, compiled with the list of issues the school had been sent regarding the teen’s history. So he was essentially forced to bear through the rest of the school day covered in cuts and bruises. He was also forced to hang in the nurse’s office during lunch for obvious reasons. In every class, students whispered to each other about the fight, pointing at Kakashi’s various injuries and inspecting him like some sort of creature to dissect. _What kind of punk gets into a fight on their first day of school?_ He also had to stay after school at the counselor’s office in order to discuss his student records, which was just plain annoying. By the time the day ended, Kakashi wished he had gotten suspended, too.

 _Now everyone thinks you’re an asshole._ Kakashi rolls his eyes, adjusting his bag around his shoulders. He forces the door to the parking lot of the school open, immediately being greeted with a cold blast of air. Kakashi’s eyes involuntarily shut and tear up at the pressure, and the student lets out a very long, very feral scream.

“What the actual fuck?” Kakashi hears, and he stops screaming to instead look towards the voice.

Lo and behold, Uchiha Obito is standing there, eyes clearly irritated as an unlit cigarette hangs between his teeth.

Kakashi’s face morphs into a sneer. “I thought you were suspended.”

“I thought you were human,” the older retorts with a scoff. “Guess I was wrong.” He immediately begins walking away, fumbling to light the end of his cigarette with a plastic lighter.

Kakashi takes a look around, noting that no one else is in the parking lot. It was about an hour after school. He wondered what Obito was even doing there still. If Kakashi had gotten suspended you could bet your ass he’d be asleep at home right about now. Kakashi lets his curiosity get the better of him as he follows after the older male, a pensive look on his face.

Obito stops walking when he feels a presence behind him. “Why the hell are you following me?” he snaps, sending a glare over his shoulder.

Kakashi settles just a few feet away, a teasing smirk suddenly forming on his face. “Oh, nothing,” he taunts. “Just thought I’d be a good samaritan and walk the wounded home.”

Obito’s good eye twitches and he turns around, clearly irritated with the comment. To Kakashi’s amusement and satisfaction, Obito’s face is just as fucked as Kakashi feels. The other’s lips are also split open, a bit of blood staining the filter of his cigarette, and left eye alarmingly red and swollen. “Pretty funny for someone who got his ass kicked,” Obito flatly remarks.

“Have you looked in the mirror?” Kakashi counters with a scoff, gesturing towards Obito’s own appearance. “Your eye looks like it’s about to pop right out of your skull, for fuck’s sake.”

Obito touches his swollen eye and involuntarily lets out a hiss. “Yeah, thanks for that one, douchebag.”

Kakashi steps forward. “I bet you’d look better with another one to match.”

Obito huffs, backing away. “Fuck off,” he replies, “I can’t afford to get expelled.”

“Joking. I was joking,” Kakashi says with a slight smile, and Obito narrows his eyes. The smile immediately disappears, and he thinks back to their confrontation with the principal. “You looked terrified in there,” Kakashi suddenly comments, and Obito stares at him in confusion. “When we were with the principal, I mean. As soon as he mentioned getting expelled you looked like you shit your pants.”

Obito looks at Kakashi like he’s stupid. “I literally just said I can’t afford to get expelled. I _looked_ terrified because I _was_ terrified.”

“I don’t know, you seem like the type of guy to not really care about school all that much,” Kakashi rambles, clasping his hands behind his back. “Kind of like the type to go to school just because your parents force you or something.”

Obito’s face contorts into a frown at that. “You don’t know shit about me,” he mutters. He tries to light his cigarette one more time, successfully catching a spark.

Kakashi watches as Obito begins to leave, the older student blowing a billow of smoke that streams behind him as he walks. He isn’t quite sure why, but Kakashi feels compelled to talk to Obito some more. A part of him thinks it’s his lonely side speaking. Obito seems to be just as much of an outcast as Kakashi is already becoming at the school. He thinks back to his first class and how he immediately resolved to go through the year without associating with any of his classmates. And then Obito came in minutes later and punched him in the face.

It was a good punch, too.

Kakashi must really be crazy, because for some unknown reason, he wants to be Obito’s friend. 

The younger smiles to himself, moving to catch up with Obito’s speedy pace. “Wait up!”

Obito lets out a loud groan of irritation. He whips around, glowering down at Kakashi with an exasperated look in his eyes. “Can you fuck off?”

Kakashi ignores him. “Want to hang out?”

A confused frown comes over his face. “What? No,” he answers, as if appalled by the idea.

Kakashi pauses for a moment, narrowing his eyes as he inspects Obito’s figure. His shoulders are slumped over, hands shoved in his pockets as idle smoke trails off the end of his cigarette. Kakashi immediately knows what would win the male over; he had met plenty of Obito’s type back at his old school. “I got weed,” he says, and as predicted, a sudden look of interest takes over Obito’s face.

The older male stares at him, as if scrutinizing Kakashi on his own end. He removes the cigarette from his lips, blowing a cloud of smoke to the side. “Where?” he questions, suspicious.

Kakashi smiles. “You know that frozen yogurt place down town?”

Obito raises an eyebrow. “Yeah…?”

“I live there. My uncle owns it,” Kakashi explains with a knowing grin as the interest in Obito’s face visibly increases. “If you come over, I can hook you up with both a joint _and_ frozen yogurt. Name one thing better than that.”

Obito snorts, but he seems amused. Though he hesitates for a moment. “Why the hell do you suddenly want to hang out? Like, just this morning we were beating the shit out of each other.”

Kakashi rolls his eyes, waving the comment off as if it didn’t mean anything to him. “That was, like, five hours ago, man. Who cares?” In all honesty, Kakashi doesn’t really know what came over him either. He should hate Obito’s guts. But he doesn’t. In fact, his fight with Obito seems to be the only thing that entire day that didn’t make Kakashi want to throw himself off a cliff. As strange as that is.

Obito still doesn’t seem convinced. “Aren’t you a new student?” he questions. “Shouldn’t you be doing something more productive with your time? Like joining a club? Or making actual friends?”

“What do you think I’m doing right now?” Kakashi retorts.

The older scoffs. “I don’t know if you noticed, but I’m kind of an asshole.”

“I got valium, too, if you want it.”

Obito’s eyes widen. “What the actual fuck?” He quickly looks around them in case anyone is listening in. “Alright fine, I’ll come with you,” he finally says, taking another hit from his cigarette. “Just so we’re clear, though, if you try anything funny I will not hesitate to smash your head against a wall.”

Kakashi lets out a genuine laugh, one that echoes across the expanse of the school parking lot. “See? We’re practically best friends already.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic is long. Like really long. I actually have the first few chapters written out, already working on the next few too because inspiration for this au hit me like a ton of bricks lol. It will probably start off fairly lighthearted, but after that, it's going to be a wild ride (i.e. dramatic and angsty. Like super heavy.)
> 
> I know high school au’s aren’t very popular in this fandom, but there’s a reason why I chose to write Obito and Kakashi as high schoolers in this fic. I’ve always felt like people don’t quite understand how... hard things can get for teenagers. As someone who just left high school myself, I was always surrounded by not only classmates who belittled things like mental health, but occasionally adults, too. The term “the real world” was thrown around so often that it made me feel like my life in high school couldn’t compare to what’s waiting outside. As if what I experienced then wasn’t real. As if the feelings I had while in high school didn’t mean anything. People would joke that if teenagers couldn’t simply get over their feelings, they would never survive in the “real world.” Because how hard could high school be? We’re still just kids, it’s not like our problems are real.
> 
> Ideas like those only help to further expose teenagers to things like depression and anxiety. Constantly telling students that they know nothing about the real world only serves to invalidate their feelings, as if the kids who struggle to get out of bed every morning aren’t struggling with anxiety - no, they’re only lazy, unmotivated, immature. Then these kids never get the help for their issues, because they’re too afraid to ask for help from the very people who act as if their feelings don’t matter. I got sick of that, so I wanted to write a story that showed that the issues teenagers face are very real. Things like mental illness and other hardships are not limited to age. 


	2. Chapter 2

_This is the stupidest thing I’ve ever done,_ Obito thinks to himself as he drives as according to Kakashi’s directions. The younger student is blabbering about nothing in particular, besides directions to his place, and Obito is trying his best to ignore his nonsense as the last bits of ash fall from his cigarette. He tosses the thing out of the window of his car, grumbling to himself as he makes a turn. He can’t help but feel absolutely ridiculous. Here he is, driving himself and some punk who nearly broke his jaw to a frozen yogurt shop.

And for what? Some weed? He could always bum some off of Genma, which is the only reason he associates with the other student anyways. A part of him thinks he should just turn around and tail it. Kick Kakashi out of his car and tell him to walk the rest of the way home himself. Obito could be home right now himself (though he doesn’t really want to be), relatively safe and in peace. His sister’s probably already home, so he could be spending time with her, or possibly looking into ways to fix the damn heater. The possibilities are endless, but no, Obito is here, driving to a frozen yogurt shop for some weed.

“There it is,” Kakashi says, pointing at something outside the window. Obito doesn’t even bother to look. “You can park somewhere in the back.”

The older male lets out a sigh, maneuvering through the busy streets until he reaches the mentioned parking lot, finding a spot relatively close to the building. He turns off the car, taking a moment to settle his thoughts as Kakashi begins unbuckling himself from the passenger seat.

The other student gives him a look of question. “Is something wrong?” he asks, pausing in his movements.

Obito pinches the bridge of his nose, attempting to rub out the sudden aches he was beginning to feel. “What the hell am I doing here?” he voices his thoughts, sending Kakashi a tired expression.

Kakashi rolls his eyes, clearly itching to leave the car. “Look, I get that this is weird, but can we move on from that already? Last time I checked, you were suspended, so it’s not like you have anything better to do anyways.”

Obito lifts his head, sending the younger male a glare. “Actually, I could name a lot of things I could be doing right now besides this.”

“Oh, really?” Kakashi challenges, tilting his head to the side in a sarcastic manner. “Then why don’t you?” He pauses briefly, waiting for Obito to reply. When he doesn’t, he says, “Yeah, that’s right. Because you’re suspended from school and your life at home is probably shitty. That or nobody wants you home, or you’re a depressed, hipster piece of shit looking for some fucking adventure to write about in your little diary. You might have places you should be, but you don’t want to be there. Instead you’d rather smoke some pot and forget about all of your problems.” Kakashi kicks the car door open. “Don’t lie to yourself. I won’t judge you. I’m the same way.”

Obito sits there, mouth agape as he watches Kakashi leave the car. A part of him is a bit annoyed that Kakashi would even accuse him of being a _“depressed, hipster piece of shit,”_ but he finds that he can’t exactly be mad because half of his proposals were true. His finger rests against his gearshift, half-wanting to just back out and ditch just to be defiant, but he knows Kakashi is ultimately right. He’s an asshole who just wants to smoke some pot and forget about his problems. He has plenty to forget.

Obito shuts off the engine, exiting the car and locking it behind him. He crosses over to where Kakashi stands, following the younger’s gaze up the side of the building. “So you live here?” he asks, referring to the complex above the frozen yogurt shop.

Kakashi nods. “That’s my room over there,” he says, pointing to a window. Obito notices that there’s a garden gnome sitting on the windowsill. “That gnome is filled with salt,” Kakashi says when the older gives him a questioning glance. “It keeps the demons away.” Obito merely stares. “A joke. That’s a joke. It’s actually where I hide my stash.”

“Not exactly inconspicuous,” Obito comments, shoving his hands into his pockets as he quickly comes to realize how freezing it is outside.

Kakashi snorts. “No one is going to search a fucking gnome above a frozen yogurt shop for some drugs.”

“It’d be the first place I’d check,” Obito utters, heaving a shivering sigh. “Can we go inside already? It’s fucking freezing out here.”

Kakashi rolls his eyes but nods, pulling his keys out of his bag and unlocking the back door. They step inside, Kakashi pulling the door shut, allowing the two of them to feel the blessing warmth of the heater. Obito breathes out a sigh of relief, removing his hands from his pockets. Kakashi gestures towards the door directly ahead. “That leads to the shop,” he informs before moving his finger to indicate the adjacent stairwell. “And that leads to the apartment.”

“Great,” Obito remarks, uninterested. “Are we going up, or what?”

Kakashi gives him a snide grin before leading the way up, swinging his keys around his finger with every step. “My uncle’s probably in the shop right now. We don’t really get business during the winter, so things have been nice and quiet lately.”

“So you live with your uncle?” Obito finds himself asking as Kakashi shuffles to unlock the door to the apartment. “What about your parents?” he questions before he can stop himself, and he immediately regrets asking when he sees the younger pause. _Dick move,_ he thinks, because what if Kakashi’s parents are dead or something? Or what if they disowned him? Is it a touchy subject? Hell, Obito doesn't even like talking about his own parents, so why the hell would he ask about Kakashi’s?

Kakashi pockets his keys, twisting the doorknob open and stepping aside to allow Obito into the apartment first. “After I got kicked out of my old school, I was set to transfer here,” Kakashi finally answers, following Obito inside. “My uncle already lived pretty close to the school, so we all kind of decided that it was best if I just moved in with him.”

Obito stands by the doorway, contemplating the younger’s words. When he found out Kakashi was a new student, he hadn’t really considered why he might have transferred. A part of him is curious as to what exactly Kakashi did to get himself expelled from his old school, but maybe it is something too personal to ask. _I’m only here for the drugs,_ Obito decides, _I don’t give a shit about his personal problems._

He does a quick look around the apartment, noticing the cozy interior. He can’t help but feel a bit of envy, though he usually does whenever he enters a house better than his. Any house is better than his usual shithole.

Obito then realizes something. “Wait,” he says, and Kakashi pauses in the middle of taking his jacket off to give him a questioning look. “Did you go to that prissy private school?”

Kakashi arches an eyebrow. “Yeah…?”

“The fuck? You?” Obito can’t help the laugh that escapes his lips, because for some reason the image of Kakashi attending classes with a bunch of other stuck-up pricks seems hilarious to him.

“What’s so funny about that?” Kakashi asks, genuinely confused with Obito’s reaction.

“Just the idea,” Obito replies, running a hand through his hair as he forces himself to stop laughing. “You don’t seem like the private school type.”

“Don’t know what you’re talking about,” Kakashi says with a shrug of his shoulders, gesturing for Obito to follow him as he heads towards his room. “I fucking hated it there, sure, but as far as I know, students from private schools and public schools are exactly the same.”

Obito hums. “How so?”

“They have the same circles. The preps and jocks, stoners and sluts, nerds and freaks, the infamous high school drop-out,” Kakashi lists, staring pointedly at Obito with the last phrase. Obito flips him off. “The only difference is the funding,” he continues, opening the door to his bedroom and stepping inside. “I can tell you that this school is _hideous._ The holes in the walls, the mold…” Kakashi makes a disgusted face. “At least in that private school I can drop my jacket on the floor without it collecting cobwebs. Jesus Christ.”

Obito laughs again, entering the room. He takes a moment to look around the bedroom, noticing how messy it is. Obito isn’t exactly a neat freak, but something about the state of Kakashi’s room struck a small nerve in him. “You’re one to talk,” the dark-haired male mumbles, staring at a pile of clothes stuffed in the corner of the room.

Kakashi glances over and shrugs. “It’s different when it’s your room.” He heads over to his window to retrieve the garden gnome. Obito takes a seat against a beanbag in another corner, his butt sinking into its mostly deflated cushioning. He adjusts his position a bit in an effort to get more comfortable before giving up.

He takes another look around the room before another wave of awkwardness hits him. He’s here. In some new kid’s room. On his own free will. Obito is pretty sure he learned about the dangers of hanging out with random strangers some time in his childhood. Maybe it isn’t too late to just leave.

Kakashi plops down in the beanbag next to him, also sinking backwards as he struggles to unscrew the gnome’s head. He glances up at Obito briefly and gestures towards something on the shelf behind him. Obito quirks an eyebrow, turning around and staring at the bookshelf in confusion. There is only one book on the shelf total. The rest of the space is filled with old CD’s and a large speaker. Obito grabs the book and moves to hand it to Kakashi, pausing when he sees the cover.

He scoffs. “The Bible?” Obito reads, giving Kakashi an _‘are-you-serious?’_ look.

Kakashi successfully manages to plop the gnome’s head off, spilling its contents onto the carpeted floor between them. “Open to the back,” he says without looking up, and Obito glances over and watches as Kakashi picks out a small bag of weed before sweeping the rest of the assortment back into the gnome.

Obito does as told, flipping to the back of the thick book and finding the remnants of torn pages. Kakashi suddenly grabs the book from him, unceremoniously ripping a page out of the back and tossing the rest to the side. It takes Obito a moment to realize what’s happening. “Are you serious?” he says, holding back the urge to laugh again at the absurdity of the situation.

Kakashi glares at him. “I’m out of rolling paper, jackass.”

Obito shakes his head somewhat chidingly. “I’m not smoking the Bible, dude.” He reaches into his pocket and pulls out his pack of cigarettes. He takes one out and begins rolling it between his fingers, reminding himself to find Genma sooner or later so he can steal another pack off of him.

Kakashi rolls his eyes, placing the torn page beneath Obito’s hand to catch the discarded tobacco. “Didn’t realize you were such a baby,” he quips, but he sits back and lets Obito do as he pleases. “Make sure you pull the filter out.”

Obito hums in acknowledgement. “How often do you do this?” Obito finds himself asking. “You’re probably going to go to hell with all those holy pages you’ve torn out.”

Kakashi pulls his knees up to his chest. “Not that often, actually. Just when my friend, Nagato, comes over. He hasn’t been over in a while though. He’s busy working on his senior thesis.”

Obito raises an eyebrow. “What kind of loser college student still hangs out with high schoolers?”

Kakashi lets out a little laugh. “Yeah, he’s kind of a loser. But he’s a fun loser. Smart one, too. Hearing him talk about science and other philosophical bullshit is pretty fun when you’re baked as hell.”

Obito smiles at the comment. “How’d you meet him?” he asks as he pulls the cotton filter out of the now emptied cigarette.

Kakashi passes him the bag. “Over the summer at the shop. My uncle has me work every summer, even before I started living with him permanently. Nagato came in one day with a laptop and just sat in the corner, typing away. About an hour passed before I went up to him and told him he had to buy something or I’d kick his ass out,” he recounts, a fond look in his eyes. “I remember watching him grab a cup, drop just a plop of vanilla on it, and sprinkle it with some chocolate. It barely weighed anything. Cracked me up.”

Obito finds a pencil on the ground and begins to pack mixtures of weed and tobacco into the roll. “And you let him stay?”

“I mean, yeah, he bought _something,”_ Kakashi answers with a shrug of his shoulders. “He became a regular, too. Everyday he’d come in, make that pathetic fro-yo cup, and then sit in the corner and type like he was running a marathon. Whenever there were no customers I’d just talk to him, and the rest is history.”

“Sounds like a strange guy,” Obito comments idly. _Then again, so is Kakashi,_ he thinks to himself as he finishes the joint, pinching and the rolling the end to seal it. He holds it up for the younger to see. Kakashi stares at it a bit distastefully. “I know it’s small, but it’ll taste a lot better than the Lord’s ink,” Obito comments, and Kakashi actually laughs. He pulls a lighter out of the gnome’s head and passes it to the older student. Obito immediately lights it, placing the joint in between his lips and slowly taking it in. He closes his eyes as he exhales, satisfied as its effects slowly start to creep in.

Kakashi suddenly gets up, pulling his phone out and plugging it into the stereo on the shelf. Obito watches him through half-lidded eyes. “I’m going to put on some music,” Kakashi explains as he scrolls through a playlist. “Can you open the window?”

Obito takes another hit before pulling himself onto his feet to do as told. He takes a moment to stare out the window when he opens it, observing the view and feeling the chilly breeze against his cheeks. It’s fairly busy down there, crowds of families and businessmen and women swarming from one end of the street to the other. He glances up at the sky, the dimmed and dark blue of the evening. Obito is suddenly reminded of walks with his mother, hand-in-hand as the sun sets after an afternoon of playing on the playground. He thinks of his mother’s smile, her comforting hold as she places a bandage on a scrape on his knee, and Izumi, a thumb in her mouth as she holds her teddy bear close, clinging to the hem of his shirt as she clumsily follows them up the steps to their home.

He’s pulled out of thoughts at the sound of mellow synths and the light hum of a bass. Obito tears his gaze away from the window, sending Kakashi a look of disbelief. “What the hell is that?” he questions, repressing the urge to laugh out loud. Kakashi looks at him in confusion. “You call _that_ music?”

Kakashi holds up his middle finger. “It’s atmospheric, asshole.”

“And you call _me_ a hipster?”

“Shut the fuck up and let me live,” Kakashi says with a groan, plopping down against his bean bag again. Obito smirks at him, returning to their corner and passing the joint to the younger male as he sinks against his own chair. Kakashi accepts it, taking a long drag as his eyes drift shut.

“So you and this Nagato guy,” Obito suddenly says, relaxing into the beanbag as his skin gradually warms, “you guys do anything dirty?”

Kakashi’s eyes open as he breathes out a wave of smoke. “That’s none of your business.”

Obito follows the plume with his eyes and giggles. “Oh, embarrassed? Nothing to be shy about.”

Kakashi smiles at him, passing the joint. “And you just assume I’m gay?”

“Yeah, your shitty taste in music gives you away,” Obito deadpans.

Kakashi rolls his eyes, punctuating his distaste with a middle finger. “No, my relationship with Nagato is nothing like that,” he finally says, watching as Obito takes another hit. “But even if we did do anything, it still isn’t your business.”

Obito stares pointedly at the other, and Kakashi shifts a bit uncomfortably. He suddenly scoots over, nudging the younger’s knee with his foot.

Kakashi moves so that Obito can sit next to him, taking the joint from the older’s fingers. “What about you?” he then asks in a teasing tone after a few moments.

“That’s none of your business either,” Obito replies, somewhat sarcastically, watching the younger smoke. This time when Kakashi exhales, it looks like doves dispersing in the wind. The music was beginning to pick up, swirling in Obito’s ears an almost addictive melody. “Yo, this shit’s not that bad actually,” he admits, nodding his head towards the speaker playing Kakashi’s music.

Kakashi settles further into the beanbag, breathing a pleasured sigh. “Nothing to be shy about,” he echoes, eyes barely open as he passes the joint back.

Obito’s head droops back as he stares up at the ceiling, listening closely to the music, a bubbly sensation trailing down his skin with each hum of the bass. “A guy blew me in the gym locker room last year,” he shares, letting his eyes close as he inhales another round.

Kakashi giggles this time, head lolling to the side and brushing against Obito’s shoulder. “That’s nasty, dude.”

“I know. He was a cunt about it, too,” Obito agrees, opening his eyes just so he can try to roll them. He fails. “Whenever I see him around I always make sure to flip him off.”

“Who was he?” Kakashi asks, humming along to the music.

“Some dude the teachers hired to tutor me in math,” Obito answers, and the faint light emitting from the open window feels good on his skin. “He, like, fell in love with me or something. Even after our sessions he’d try to follow me everywhere. He was obsessed.”

“Poor kid.”

“More like creepy. I got tired of him stalking me so I let him suck me off.”

“Shouldn’t you have sucked him off?”

“Fuck no, dude. I don’t need his dick in my mouth. He was happy to have mine in his, though.”

Kakashi laughs, coughing out smoke as he does. Obito finds Kakashi’s attempts to cough and laugh hilarious, so he starts laughing, too.

“So what was up with Mrs. Nara?” Kakashi questions once he recovers, referring to their history teacher from that morning. “She talks like she has a giant stick up her ass all the time.”

Obito lets out a long groan. “That’s because she does,” he answers, dragging out his syllables as he speaks. “I swear every time I actually show up to class she does the same shit. _‘Obito do you have a pass? Oh, I guess you have detention now!’_ Like when the fuck do I ever have a pass? You’d think she’d have the common sense to stop asking all the damn time. And then she thinks she’s so fucking hilarious when she randomly calls on me for answers. Like bitch I’m never in class! How the fuck would I know anything about Genghis Khan and his Mongol Empire? Holy shit.” Obito takes another hit from the joint. “Seeing me suffer probably gets her off. Sick fuck.”

“Wow, it’s like she’s trying to do her job or something,” Kakashi retorts, amused. “She thought the way I introduced myself to the class was inappropriate or something. Fuck me for trying make things a little interesting for once.”

“What’d you say?”

Kakashi shrugs. “I don’t even remember anymore. Actually, now that I think about it, no one in the class seemed to like it very much. That girl in the front row? She looked like she peed her pants.”

Obito smirks. “Fuuka?”

“Is that her name?” Kakashi asks. “I swear she kept turning around to look back at me during class. Even after our damn fight. I had a few other classes with her and she was always looking at me for some reason?”

Obito clicks his tongue. “She wants you, dude. She sleeps with anything that can walk.”

Kakashi gags, taking the joint from the other. “You think if I come in tomorrow in a crop-top and booty shorts she’ll get the message that I’m into dudes?”

Obito laughs. “That’s not going to stop her.” He shifts into a more comfortable position. “You get used to it after a while. Whenever Fuuka comes after me I just set up random dates to ‘meet up’ with her. Then I just don’t show up. Not like she really gives a shit. She finds some other dude to fuck anyways. Though she still sends me nudes every once in a while.”

Kakashi holds a finger up, catching Obito’s attention as he carefully blows out a row of rings. He then hands the joint back to the older, lying back against the beanbag in satisfaction. “Did you ever fuck her?”

Obito nods. “Just to confirm my suspicions.”

“Suspicions?”

“Yeah,” Obito says. “Proved that I’m definitely gay.”

Kakashi laughs again. “Unbelievable.”

“Yeah,” Obito agrees again. “Honestly, this town’s filled with people like her. Lots of Mrs. Nara’s and lots of Fuuka’s. Though I guess Fuuka isn’t that bad. But they still get really annoying. No one ever wants to mind their own damn business.”

Kakashi raises an eyebrow. “You been here long?”

Obito nods, exhaling a stream of smoke. “Too long, man. I’ve seen buildings get built and others destroyed. Seen people move in and out, witnessed every crazy rumor from teen pregnancies to who got fired from where. Every day the town finds someone new to shit on.” He blows a strand of hair out of his face. “Only a matter of time before it’s you.”

“It was kind of like that at my old place, too,” Kakashi says, watching as Obito finishes the joint. “I didn’t mind too much. I guess I’m just used to having eyes on me. But I get what you mean, it does get suffocating after a while.”

Obito taps the last bit of ash off the smoke, putting it out against the torn page. “Sorry you ended up here, then. If I had a chance, I’d get the fuck out of this damn town. Take my sister and leave.” He places his arms behind his head, heaving a deep sigh. “I lose more and more brain cells every time I wake up in this shithole.”

Kakashi snorts. “That might be the drugs.” Obito rolls his eyes, but there’s a small smile on his face anyways. Kakashi suddenly gets up, holding a hand out for Obito to take. The older gazes at him under half-lidded eyes, confusion evident in his brows. “Come on,” Kakashi says, “I want to show you something.”

Obito eyes his hand a bit suspiciously before taking it, allowing the younger to pull him to his feet. Kakashi leads him back into the living room and back out into the stairwell. He takes them up another set of stairs, leading to yet another door. Kakashi pulls out his keys and unlocks it, pushing the heavy door open and revealing the night sky. A cold wind immediately rushes past them, and Obito tugs his hood over his head, following the younger outside.

“Aren’t you cold?” Obito calls out as the door shuts behind them. He blows into his hands in an attempt to create warmth. He takes a look around the wide expanse of the roof, the ventilation fans, the power boxes.

Kakashi casts him a look over his shoulder as he leans over the railing at the end. His bangs sweep up with the wind, but other than that, there’s a smile on his face. “A little,” he admits, “but come over here. You need to see this before we go back inside.”

Obito shoves his hands back in his pocket, an idle frown on his face as he approaches the ledge where Kakashi stands. He sniffles a little at the cold, mimicking the younger and leaning forward against the railing. Kakashi winks at him before glancing back off into the distance, and Obito follows his eyes to the horizon.

“Oh,” Obito utters, suddenly forgetting about the cold as he stares over the expanse of their small town. He sees the faint glow of the street lights, the holiday lights that decorate the trees, the color of traffic up and down the roads, the murmur of talk and laughter below. Then above, the faint stars that twinkle even over the darkened clouds and the planes that drift by. Something about it all takes his breath away.

“Oh,” Kakashi echoes, amusement in his tone. “This town may suck,” he says, meeting eyes with the older and giving him a grin, “but it sure looks fucking amazing at night.”

Obito blinks a bit before smiling back, probably the most genuine smile he’s given someone in a long time before he turns to look out over the horizon again. They stay there in silence, over the edge of the roof, just watching life drift through the town that seems so small but so big all at the same time.

Maybe it’s the high talking, but Kakashi’s alright, Obito decides. Everything is still _really fucking weird,_ don’t get him wrong. He pushed, fought, and smoked with Kakashi all in one day. The entire day felt kind of surreal, but _yeah,_ Obito thinks to himself, _Kakashi’s alright._

-

The hallway feels narrow, only slightly wider than Kakashi’s shoulder width. He lets his fingers trace the walls, feeling the bumps and cracks beneath his nails, the dust trickling into musky clouds that pool around his ankles. The air feels stale, arid, the moisture in his throat feeling as if it’s been sucked right out. The low lights lining the hall flicker shut, and Kakashi is left alone in the darkness.

A single red light flashes above his head, emitting a noise similar to that of a buzzing fly. Its color is too intense, forcing Kakashi to hold a hand above his eyes. He stares down the center of the hallway, seeing a door with a silver knob. The light bathes it in a low red, soft and distant.

Kakashi takes a small step forward, his heel just barely grazing the ground when all the lights suddenly flash back on, bright and intense. He shields his face with his hands, peering through the cracks between his fingers, and slowly each bulb that lines the hall begin to flicker. The buzzing sensation from the red light up above seems to intensify as each bulb morphs into a slits and sockets, each adorning a glossy eye.

The red light stops flashing and remains, painting the entire hall in its color. Kakashi struggles to find his voice as he stares back at the eyes, unmoving, unblinking, perfect pupils glowing red. The buzz feels louder and his skin begins to crawl. Kakashi feels a presence behind his back and he begins to run, sprinting down the hall as fast he can.

Each step feels heavier than the last, and the door at the end feels farther and farther away. He reaches out an arm, spreading his fingers out in attempt to pull at the door. The eyes continue to watch him, multiplying, lining up in rows up and down the narrowing walls, closing in, closer, and closer…

He feels something tear at his shoulder and he lets out a scream.

_“Fuck!”_

Kakashi’s body jolts as his eyes rip open, immediately flinching at the bright lights that consume his room. His heart rate picks up when he sees balls of light flashing on the ceiling, some red, some a pure white, burning. He shields his eyes and flips around, but he feels resistance around his legs, and to his alarm he finds cords wrapped around his limbs, sealing him in place.

_“Kakashi!”_

Kakashi cries out, kicking at his legs, squirming until he feels another tear at his shoulder, and just as he’s about to thrash out an arm he’s suddenly on the ground, a weight around his stomach preventing him from moving anymore. Kakashi comes face to face with burning red lights, brightening, intensifying every second—

“Kakashi! Holy shit, dude!” He feels a bit of liquid drop onto his cheek, and Kakashi blinks, attempting to focus his eyes. Another drip, and Kakashi catches a glimpse of its red color, a slight panic overcoming him again. Hands are gripping onto his arms before he can move.

“Kakashi! Snap out of it!” The voice is low but firm, the grips on his arms digging into his skin. Kakashi blinks more, and slowly an image starts to form.

He swallows, the feeling painful in his dry throat as he begins to regain his senses. “Obito,” Kakashi breathes out in recognition, eyes focusing on Obito’s own dark ones. “Obito.” He gasps, suddenly shoving the older male off him. He frantically wipes at his face, staring down at the smear of blood against his fingers. Kakashi glances over at the other student in realization. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry—”

“Save it,” Obito says as he grabs tissues off the nightstand, holding them against his nose. “I guess you can say we’re even,” he murmurs idly, a pensive look suddenly taking over his features. Kakashi gulps, knowing what is going to come next. “What the hell got into you?” Obito asks, an eyebrow raised in curious concern. “I tried to wake you up and you just punched me in the fucking face, ugh.”

Kakashi tears his gaze away, placing a hand on his shoulder and feeling for any cuts. “Nothing, I just had a nightmare. That’s all,” he answers. “Sorry about that.” He quickly garners his surroundings, the white walls, the pictures, the window, his carpet, his bed. His room. His home. Kakashi breathes out a small sigh of relief.

Obito stares at him for a moment with scrutinizing eyes before he shakes his head, tossing the tissues out. “Whatever.” He walks back over to the window, phone in hand. “Sorry that I’m still here, by the way. I didn’t mean to crash last night.”

“I don’t really care about that.” Kakashi turns to look at the clock on his wall, his eyes widening when he realizes what time it is. “But holy shit, I’m late for school.”

Obito glances at the clock as well. “Oh yeah, you didn’t get suspended.” He frowns for a bit, finding his discarded parka on the floor and slipping it on. He pulls out his car keys and jingles it in the air, grabbing Kakashi’s attention. “I can drive you, if you want.”

Kakashi merely nods in gratitude, pulling himself up to his feet. He makes a move to pull off his shirt, watching Obito in the corner of his eyes. The older male quickly gets the message, turning away and scrolling through his phone.

Kakashi slips his shirt off, tossing it onto his bed before crouching back onto the ground, digging into the garden gnome he had left on the floor last night and pulling out a bottle of pills. He steals a glance over at Obito again, seeing that the older male is still busy on his phone. Kakashi places his hand on the cap, moving to twist it open when he suddenly hesitates. He stares down at the object in his hand in slight frustration. Obito coughs a little and Kakashi quickly tosses the bottle back into the gnome.

The older looks up from his phone in time to see Kakashi tugging on a new shirt and kicking the gnome away. “Damn, you don’t have to disrespect it like that,” Obito jokes, and Kakashi gives him half a smile as he searches for a fresh pair of pants.

Once Kakashi is finished, he pops a piece of gum into his mouth and approaches the older student. “Let’s go,” he says, nodding towards the door.

Obito gazes down at him for a moment before putting his phone away. “You know, I still felt a little high when I woke up this morning. Then you punched me in the face. That definitely snapped me out of it.”

Kakashi gives him a sheepish grin. “Yeah, sorry about that.”

“It’s whatever.” Obito waves it off as the two begin to exit the room. “Must have been one hell of a nightmare, though.”

“Yeah,” Kakashi agrees softly, looking away as he holds a hand up to his shoulder again. “Never had anything like it.”

-

Obito is quickly reminded that he’s not allowed in the school when he spots the principal strolling outside. He had dropped Kakashi off by the entrance with barely a goodbye before he drove to the back, parking in an empty lot that belonged to an abandoned store across the street from the school. He turns the heat in his car on high, warming his hands. He pulls out his phone and stares at the screen, scrolling through the messages he had sent that morning.

Izumi had texted him last night multiple times, asking where he went, why he wasn’t home, and if he was okay. Obito felt a bit guilty. Although he didn’t expect to crash at Kakashi’s, he should have at least told her he’d be at someone else’s house.

_Izumi: where are you????_

_Obito: sorry slept at a friends house last night_

_Izumi: oh_

_Obito: sorry i couldnt drive u today_

_Izumi: its ok dad did_

Obito stares down at the last text message, unable to formulate a response. _Dad. Dad did._ He scoffs. _So the bastard came home after all._ Obito is just about to drive off again when he suddenly spots a familiar figure in the distance. He pockets his phone, turning his car off and stepping outside.

“Oh, Obito,” the figure calls out, nodding at him in acknowledgement. He’s sitting on the curb outside the abandoned store, a smoke in one hand and a phone in the other. “I thought I recognized your car.”

Obito doesn’t say anything as he silently seats himself next to the brown-haired male, hands stuffed in his pockets as he stares off across the street and at the back of the school. “I got suspended,” he finally says, and the boy next to him laughs.

Genma is the school’s biggest phony. He was elected their class president this year and is the world’s biggest ass-kisser when it comes to the teachers. It pisses Obito off sometimes, especially because he knows the other is just as much of a piece of shit as him, if not more. Genma’s rich, smart, popular, and good-looking, but he abuses his statuses at any given chance. He’s overall an okay guy, not too arrogant or whiny or entitled, but the fact that Genma is objectively better than Obito in every way still pisses the latter off a little. Just a little.

“What’d you do to get your ass suspended this time?” Genma asks, wisps of smoke escaping his lips as he spoke.

Obito kicks a pebble away. “Got into another fight,” he answers.

“With who?” the other questions as he taps the ashes on his cigarette away.

“Hatake Kakashi,” Obito replies, recalling the previous day and again feeling amazed at the fact that he got high with the guy only hours after their fight.

“The new kid?” Genma says, an eyebrow raised in disbelief. “That’s definitely a new one. You know I’ve seen him before?”

Obito grabs the cigarette out of Genma’s hands despite the latters protest, taking a quick hit from it himself. “Do I look like I give a shit?” he finally murmurs in between a billow of smoke.

Genma ignores him. “You know that frozen yogurt shop? I’ve seen him hanging around there a lot. I think his dad or uncle or something owns the place.”

“Wow! I still don’t give a shit,” Obito quips. He likes Genma, he really does. Mainly because Genma gives him packs to smoke and free drugs, occasionally booze, but he never does like it when Genma tries to gossip with him. What Genma finds interesting Obito more often than not finds pointless and redundant. He couldn’t care less about who broke up with who or who fucked what. Plus he’s pretty sure he’s gotten to know Kakashi plenty enough for one day. He doesn’t need to learn more, especially from stupid rumors.

“Wonder what he’s doing at our school now,” Genma continues anyways. “Like, he transferred, so he must have been going to that private school or something,” he speculates. “I’ve always found him kind of weird, you know? The few times I’ve seen him, I mean. Can’t believe you got into a fight with him.”

Obito stares at the sliver of smoke burning from the end of the cigarette. “Yeah, well, I also smoked some pot with him last night, so…” He places the bud between his teeth and lets it hang there for a while. “Yeah, he’s pretty weird.”

Genma stares at him with widened eyes. “You smoked pot with the new kid?”

Obito glances over at him and nods.

“What the hell?” Genma suddenly punches him in the arm. “Care to fucking elaborate?”

Obito rolls his eyes, finally exhaling another cloud of smoke and handing the cigarette back to the other male. “He invited me to his house after school for some reason. I guess he thought we could be friends. I don’t know. He offered me weed and other shit that I may or may not have tried, so you know. I’m not going to say no.”

Genma raises an eyebrow. “You went to his house?” Obito nods. “Did you bang him?”

Obito chokes on his spit, fits of coughs escaping his lungs as he struggles to regain his breath. Genma watches him with a shit-eating grin. “No, I did not bang him,” Obito manages to say in between coughs. “Christ, dude, what is wrong with you?”

“Oh, come on,” Genma goads with a playful nudge to the arm. “Even though he’s kind of weird, you have to admit he’s a little cute.”

Obito holds a middle finger up in response. “You can have him then, if you think he’s cute.”

Genma snorts, tossing the now finished cigarette onto the ground and snuffing it out with his shoe. “Not my type. He’s still weird. Like, he always seems like he’s on edge,” he explains, glancing over at Obito. “At least at the yogurt shop. Even when no one’s there he’s always looking around. Or he just stands there for a while. Sometimes I see him sitting at one of the tables.”

“Genma, you just described what people do when they’re bored,” Obito remarks, unimpressed. He considers something for a moment. “Even if I _did_ find him cute, he still gave me this goddamn black eye. That’s unforgiveable.”

Genma laughs. “Damn, he must have put up a pretty good fight.”

Obito smirks a little. “It was alright.”

They sit in silence for a little while, watching as the occasional car passes by. Obito thinks back to last night, trying to remember his conversations with the Kakashi. The scene still feels absurd to Obito, no matter how he tries to look at it. But fuck, he had fun. He could admit that he wouldn’t mind doing something like that with the younger again.

“I’m throwing a party next Friday,” Genma suddenly says, and Obito turns to look at him. “You can come if you want. I’ll have the usual there.” Obito nods knowingly, considering it for a moment.

“Can I bring Kakashi?”

Genma rolls his eyes. “Sure, whatever. You can bring your little freak with you, just as long as he doesn’t do anything weird.”

“Dude, he’s really not that weird,” Obito finds himself defending Kakashi, though his mind strays to earlier that morning. He pauses for a second, recalling the strain in Kakashi’s eyes before shaking his head. “I mean, he’s like every other worthless stoner at this damn school. We’re all freaks if those are your standards.”

Genma stares at Obito for a moment. “It’s your call, I guess,” he says. “I just wouldn’t get too close to him. You don’t just drop out of a private school like that in the middle of the year, not without a good reason. I just find him a little suspicious. That’s all.”

“Maybe he skipped one too many days of school,” Obito mutters with a nonchalant shrug. “Hell, after my suspension’s over I won’t be able to skip anymore days here unless I want to drop out.”

Genma snorts at that, pushing the older male’s shoulder playfully. “You’re an idiot.”

“Yeah, well, I guess now’s a better time than ever to start going to school,” Obito says dismissively. “At least our school has working heaters.”

“Speaking of which, it’s freezing out here, and lunch is almost over.” Genma stands up, giving Obito a teasing smirk. “I’m going to go back to school, like the good student I am. See you later, jackass.” He waves a hand and walks off, heading towards the school.

Obito rolls his eyes, pushing himself up and heading for his own car. He glances back at the school building for a moment, contemplating just going in anyways. He then remembers the cameras and how anal the security is, so it isn’t worth it trying to sneak in for the warmth when there are eyes in every hallway.

His stomach fills with dread as he begins to think of home.

-

Obito knows he’s home when he opens the door and finds it colder in there than out in the actual outdoors. He pulls up the hood on his parka and drops his keys in a bowl by the door, walking across the living room to get to his bedroom. He pauses when he hears sounds from the kitchen, and a deep sense of dread overtakes his system.

Since Izumi is still at school, there are only two possible explanations for the noises: someone broke in, or his father is home. Obito does not like either of the scenarios. He breathes out a curse as his feet begin to take him towards his kitchen.

Just as he feared, his father is standing by the sink, washing dishes and humming a mindless tune to himself. Obito can’t help the irritation he feels towards the normalcy of the scene. It shouldn’t bother him like this, but he knows his father is nothing like the image he is currently presenting. A ridiculous thought. The man looks so at peace, so much like the perfect suburban father Obito knows he would never be.

The teen feels his fists clench by his sides. “Where the hell have you been?” he grits, but his father doesn’t even flinch, merely continues to wash the dish in his hands.

“Oh,” the man says, glancing over his shoulder and giving Obito a serene smile, “hello, Obito.” His skin creases with familiar laugh lines, as the sight alone is enough to make Obito’s blood boil.

“Where the hell have you been?” Obito repeats, his arms beginning to tense up.

“Shouldn’t you be in school?” his father asks instead of answering, the same pleasant lilt in his tone as he continued to scrub the dishes. “You weren’t here this morning. I was wondering where you were.” He turns on the sink, soaking a cup with water as he hums a little tune to himself again.

There is silence for a moment as Obito watches his father clean. He can feel his anger getting the best of him as he thinks about all the excuses he made up for Izumi, all the nights he spent wide awake, wondering where his father went. “You haven’t been home nearly three weeks now,” Obito says, his voice becoming dangerously low with each word. “Don’t make me ask again. Where the _hell_ have you been?”

His father stops his movements, setting a cup back into the sink, his shoulders seemingly locking in place. Slowly, the man turns around, and Obito tries his best not to punch that damn smile off of his face. “Did you look in our garage?” he asks, just as light as always. His gestures are breezy with an air of nonchalance that always manages to get on Obito’s nerves. “There’s a surprise in there for all of us! I’m sure you’ll like it.”

Obito opens his mouth to retaliate but hesitates, his curiosity getting the best of him. “What surprise?” he asks carefully, glancing over at the door that led to the garage.

“Oh, I worked so hard to earn it. Go take a look at it for yourself!” his father replies, gesturing towards the door with a polite hand.

Obito eyes the older man for a moment, untrusting, before heading towards the door. He places his hand against it and sends another suspicious look towards his father, earning a nod in return. Obito lets out a huff, bracing himself for whatever is on the other side as he pushes the door open. The garage is dark and even colder than the rest of the house, so he reaches for the light switch and flicks on the lights.

His jaw drops when his eyes land on a brand new car.

“See? I knew you’d like it!” his father says right behind him in that pleasant and careless voice of his, and Obito nearly jumps out of his skin at the proximity. “Isn’t she a beauty?”

Obito stares at the glossy black paint of the car, the shimmer on the windows, and the obnoxious size of it all. He begins to feel himself shake. “Are you fucking kidding me?” he growls, turning around and shoving his father away from him. “You bought a fucking _car?”_

“Isn’t it great?” his father says with a happy laugh, clapping his hands together merrily. “It drives so smoothly! Great mileage, too! Unlike that old one you always drive around. It isn’t very good anymore,” he explains as if he’s reading a book to a child. “I thought that this would be a great change in our lives! We always need a little change, don’t we?”

“You’re fucking joking, right?” Obito bites out, feeling his patience wear thin as he attempts to keep his voice as level as possible. This all feels like a scene out of one his dreams. A sick, _sick_ dream. “You didn’t actually waste your money on a brand new car, _right?”_

“It’s not wasting, Obito. This is for our benefit,” his father replies, just as breezily as always.

Obito can’t believe his own ears. “For _our_ benefit? You mean your fucking benefit?” Obito suppresses the urge to tear his hair out. “Look around us, you worthless jackass! We have _nothing!_ The heater’s fucking busted! There’s no food in the goddamn fridge! There’s mold on our ceiling, and you’re telling me that you buying this new car is for our _benefit?”_ Obito slams a fist against a nearby wall but only finds that his irritation grows stronger when his father merely smiles. _He never fucking reacts._ “We can’t _afford_ a new car, much less this fucking house! Are you stupid?” _He never fucking cares._

“Now, Obito. That is not the tone to use with your father,” the man chides, a finger raised as if patronizing a child. “This car is far more efficient and ecofriendly than the last. If you wish, you can continue to use our old car. I won’t scrap it for your sake. That way we both have ways to travel.”

“I don’t give a shit about that car! What I give a shit about is that you wasted what little money you fucking earn with your pitiful job on a brand new car for your own selfish ass! When was the last fucking time you were here? If you were actually here this past month, you’d know that your money should be spent on fixing the heater or the plumbing or the leaky faucet or to fill our fridge with some actual fucking food like an actual responsible adult would! Ways to travel my ass,” Obito growls, growing more and more frustrated with the conversation. He can feel his sanity slowly slipping away. “You’re just looking for more ways to walk out on us, you fucking asshole.”

His father pauses for a moment before reaching over to place a hand on his shoulder. Obito immediately flinches out of the way. “Calm down, Obito.” That very phrase alone is enough to set Obito into a new set of migraines. “I promise you that everything will be fine.” His father smiles again, and before Obito can even attempt to argue further, he begins to walk towards the car. Obito watches in exasperation as the garage door slides open on the opposite wall.

It takes the teen a moment to realize what is happening. “Where the fuck are you going now?” Obito yells, storming over to his father as the man begins climbing into his car. “Hey! You’re not leaving again, are you?” His father sends him another friendly smile as he shuts the door. “You goddamn asshole!” Obito begins beating on the window and pulling on the car handle, watching pathetically as his father starts the engine. “How can you fucking do this to us? To Izumi? What the hell is _wrong_ with you?”

The student begins to feel tears of frustration well up in the corners of his eyes as his father merely waves through the window, and the car begins to back out of the garage. Obito stumbles backwards, catching himself against the wall as he helplessly watches the car leave the driveway. Obito runs towards the end of his driveway, shouting at the top of his lungs, “I hope you rot in hell, you useless piece of shit!” The wind seems to pick up around him, blowing cold air directly into his face and freezing his skin. “That car’s going to get stolen in a fucking week!” he screams out, and he can feel his throat burn in protest as his voice rips through. His cries are for nothing, as the car and his father have already disappeared.

Obito begins to shiver from the temperature and notices that his neighbors are watching him through the blinds of houses across the street. He knows right away that they all saw that car, they all heard Obito’s screams, and it only confirms his beliefs. He immediately turns around, heading back for the crude safety his house could provide.

He flips a switch, forcing the garage door back down before reentering the kitchen. Obito glances over at the sink and notices that the faucet is still running. _“Useless,”_ Obito curses to himself, walking over and quickly shutting it off. “I can’t fucking believe that guy.”

Obito sits at the table, burying his face in his hands as he rubs the few tears that managed to escape his eyes away. He feels so frustrated, so _powerless_ and _trapped._ Everything about his father, about their home, about their neighborhood, town, and his goddamn life makes Obito want to scream his lungs out. Obito abruptly gets up, storming back into the garage in search for some tools.

He needs a distraction.


	3. Chapter 3

Kakashi kicks a pebble away as he leans against a nearby pole, staring mindlessly at the road ahead of him. He sniffs a little, rubbing his hands together in an attempt to gather warmth. A part of him wonders if he missed the bus or not, as he’s been waiting out here for almost fifteen minutes now and all he wants to do is go home.

The day at school was as uneventful as Kakashi expected it to be. Classmates continued to stare at him strangely, and ever since the teachers received the reports from his old school, they all began to treat him differently, too. It was a subtle difference, but it was there. He didn’t mind the odd behavior in the sense that he felt angry for being treated differently, rather he minded the fact that it felt fucking _weird._ They didn’t need to treat him nicely, nobody asked them to. The lenience displayed today told Kakashi that he could do anything. Not that he would. But he could.

Kakashi isn’t really sure what he’ll do when he finally gets home. He supposes he can actually do some homework and maybe try the “good student” thing out now that he’s at a new school, as appealing at that sounds. Kakashi knows that if he actually tried, he’d probably be pretty good at school. At least in math or science or something _interesting._ It’s an entertaining thought, but Kakashi knows he’ll give up the proper student act within a month of trying.

He stares down at his shoes, blowing his bangs out of his face as his mind wanders off to his nightmare. A frown settles on Kakashi’s face as he recalls the hallway, the lights, and that _buzzing_ noise that berated his ear drums numb. _It’s getting worse and worse._ Kakashi closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, attempting to purchase his back against the pole.

Memories of his old school comes back. Of classes spent with his head flat against his desk, lunches eaten, locked behind a bathroom stall, rushing through halls and avoiding gazes, knowing, always _knowing_ what he was to all of them. Towards the end of it all it felt as if everyone was waiting for the moment he screwed up. The very moment. That’s the thing about high schoolers. They don’t give a shit about anyone but themselves, except for when they see that someone else is about to fall. About to act up. 

His mind begins to wander to his room, his old room in his parents’ house. The thunderstorm and the blackout, the darkness within his room. His younger brother, sitting there with him, holding a small candlelight to his face. Kakashi remembers the shadows he casted across the walls, how they stretched and touched the ceiling, the corners, shapes of black, flickering with each breath of the candlelight. He remembers his brother’s eyes, those wide and shaky eyes, his fingers so small, nails chipped from biting. Kakashi then sees a flash of white, and the sound of his brother screaming, the pain, the candle falling to the ground and bathing the room in momentary darkness.

And then red.

Kakashi clenches his teeth together, pleading with himself to calm down. He can feel his heart racing in his chest, and with deep breaths, he wills it to slow.

Just as he begins to concentrate on the rhythm of his own heartbeat, he feels a presence at his back. Kakashi lets out a gasp, turning around and coming face to face with the intruder.

Before him stands another boy. He appears to be close to Kakashi’s age, a couple of inches shorter, and there’s a slightly surprised look on his face. Their eyes lock for a moment before Kakashi becomes painfully aware of how close their faces are, and the latter quickly backs up.

Kakashi wipes at his nose, blinking himself back into reality. “Have you ever heard of personal space?” he quips with a sneer, giving the stranger an uncomfortable look.

“Hm?” the stranger hums, blinking up at Kakashi with a questioning look. It takes Kakashi a moment to realize that he is listening to music, ears plugged. They stare at each other for another moment, Kakashi unsure of what to do, until the stranger finally pulls his earphones out. “Did you need something?” he asks, and Kakashi wonders if all the kids at that school are this weird.

“Uh… no,” Kakashi answers hesitantly, shifting so that he is once again leaning against the pole. He figures that this kid isn’t looking for any trouble, so he decides not to waste his energy on acting hostile. “Just…don’t stand so close to me, okay?”

The stranger tilts his head, as if considering the request before nodding. “You're the new student, right?” he suddenly asks. “I’ve never seen you here before.”

Kakashi scratches the back of his head, glancing briefly at the road. “Yeah,” he answers, shoving his hands into his pockets. “It’s my second day.”

“Oh! Well, hello!” the kid greets, giving him a polite bow. “I’m Iruka, a first year.”

Kakashi swallows the urge to tell him that he doesn’t give a shit, reminding himself that he shouldn’t try to actively fight every student at the school. Obito gave him enough of a beating, if the wound on his lips said anything. “Kakashi,” he returns, nodding his head back in acknowledgement. “I’m a second year.”

Iruka gives him a friendly smile, one that causes his eyes to form little crescents. “It’s nice to meet you, Kakashi. Have you joined any clubs yet?”

Kakashi shakes his head slowly, a bit surprised with the question. “No, I haven’t. And I don’t really plan to either,” he replies honestly, because he couldn’t care less about joining clubs. Anything that requires him to stay at school longer than necessary is something he doesn’t want to have anything to do with.

“You should!” Iruka says, an enthusiastic look in his eyes. “I’m in the gardening club! We can use an extra member.”

“Sounds like a waste of time,” Kakashi comments before he can stop himself. He glances over at Iruka and is relieved to find that the boy doesn’t seem offended by it. “I mean, uh, sorry. I’m not into… flowers.” Kakashi quickly looks away, embarrassed.

“You don’t have to be. We have more than just flowers,” Iruka replies, still just as hopeful.

Kakashi gives him an exasperated look. “I don’t really want to…dedicate myself…to, uh, taking care of a garden.”

Iruka smiles. “You can just come in sometimes. Water some plants. Admire them,” he insists.

“I’ll forget.”

“We have lots of cacti and some other desert plants! That way even if you forget, they’ll still be okay!”

Kakashi huffs, fixing Iruka with an annoyed glare. “Look, Iruka. I don’t want to join the gardening club,” he states flatly, unable to hide the irritation in his tone. “I’m not into plants or nature or anything like that. So stop trying.”

Iruka still doesn’t look convinced, but he nods anyways. “Okay. I hope you’ll reconsider,” he says, and just as he does, the bus finally arrives. A breath of relief leaves the older student’s lips as he turns away from the strange kid. Kakashi watches as the bus slowly comes to a stop beside him, gathering his things in preparation to get on.

Kakashi has one foot on the bus when he glances behind him, noticing that Iruka didn’t even bother to move from his spot. He raises an eyebrow in curiosity. “Aren’t you getting on?” he calls out to the younger male, and Iruka watches him with unblinking eyes.

“Ah, no. I’m okay,” he answers in a pleasant tone, waving a hand in farewell. “Have a safe trip!”

Kakashi stares at him for another moment, completely confused before shaking his head and entering the bus. He glances at the driver, who is giving him a rather suspicious look. Kakashi pulls out his wallet and drops the fare in the dispenser before heading towards his seat. He notices that a few of the other passengers on the bus are all giving him the same strange look, as if he isn’t supposed to be there or if he had done something wrong.

Kakashi wonders briefly if he’s on the wrong ride, but upon seeing the number displayed at the front, the doubt goes away. He’s sure he paid, and when he glances behind himself, he sees that the driver is recounting his money. Everything seems to be in check… Kakashi shrugs off the looks, calling them all creeps to himself. He takes a seat by the window, spotting Iruka in the same spot he left him.

Kakashi frowns. Why the hell is he waiting at the bus stop if he isn’t going to get on? The bus begins to move forward, and Kakashi watches as Iruka’s figure gets smaller and smaller in the distance. Once the younger student can no longer be seen, Kakashi lets out a sigh and settles into his seat, placing his own earphones into his ears.

_What a freak._

-

Obito kicks at a nearby wall, irritated when nothing changes as he fumbles with the heater’s control panel. He pulls out his phone, searching through more websites for tutorials and becoming more and more angry when none of them answer his questions clearly enough for him to understand. _Am I really this fucking stupid?_ he wonders, frustrated with his inability to repair or even figure out what is wrong with the damn thing in the first place. He’s just about to throw his phone at the panel when he hears the front door open.

Obito glances briefly at the time and realizes that Izumi must be back from school. He sends a middle finger at his failed work before heading for the door, quickly calming himself down in order to greet his little sister in a somewhat decent manner.

His phone drops out of his hands when he spots her.

“What the hell happened to you!?” Obito immediately demands, running across the hall and grabbing onto Izumi’s shoulders, startling the girl. His sister is shivering from head to toe, legs shaking and nose completely red and sniffy. Her clothes are soaked, her white dress shirt semi-transparent and clinging to her body. Her hair drips water onto the carpet, a small pool forming at her shoes.

“Obito,” she greets in between sniffs, a surprised look on her face. Her breaths are short and shaky, matching her sporadic shivers. “What are you doing home already?”

“Forget about that,” Obito grits, placing his hands on her face. “What happened? Why are you drenched in water?” His eyes widen suddenly as he realizes how cold is it outside and then how freezing it is inside. “Shit,” he mumbles, quickly directing Izumi to the couch. “Let me get you some blankets.” Before Izumi can reply the older is running into his bedroom, stripping his bed of his blankets and pulling towels from the hallway closet.

He hurries back, immediately wrapping his sister in his comforter and moving to dry her hair with the towel. “What happened?” Obito asks again as he works on her hair, a concentrated frown on his face.

Izumi sniffs again, tugging the blanket around herself more securely. “Nothing happened… I just… fell.”

Obito huffs before handing the towel to her, allowing her to work on her hair herself. “Don’t fuck around, Izumi. Tell me what happened.”

Izumi hesitates, staring down at the towel on her lap with unblinking eyes. “It’s nothing,” she insists softly, and Obito lets out a frustrated sigh.

He gets down on his knees in front of her, attempting to meet Izumi’s gaze. “I know something happened, Izumi. It’s freezing outside. You can get seriously sick from this. Just tell me.” He watches as a single tear drops from her eyes and onto her lap, and Obito’s gaze and tone softens. “Don’t you trust me?” he asks her softly, placing a hand on her knee gently.

Izumi wipes her eyes, slowly looking up and meeting Obito’s own. They stare at each other for a moment before she nods, a defeated sigh escaping her lips. “There are these girls at school,” she begins quietly, and Obito leans in closer to hear, “who keep cornering me after class… Today they got me while I was in the bathroom.” She sniffs. “They tipped a bucket of water over the stall.”

Obito clenches his teeth but reminds himself to stay calm. “Why?”

“I don’t know,” Izumi whispers, a hopeless look in her eyes. “I don’t know why they’re targeting me… I’ve never done anything to them.”

“How long has this been going on?” Obito questions, watching as more tears slid down Izumi’s cheeks.

Izumi lets out a heavy sigh, her grip on the towel tightening. “Since the beginning of the year.”

Silence fills the room as Obito absorbs the information, shock evident on his features. “The beginning of the year?” he echoes in disbelief, and Izumi merely nods. “Holy shit,” he mutters, mostly to himself as he gets up and begins to leave the room. Izumi stares up at him in confusion. Obito glares down at his feet for a moment in frustration before glancing over his shoulder. “I’m going to make you some hot chocolate. Go take a shower.”

When Izumi continues to stare, Obito takes a deep breath and sends her a reassuring smile, nodding towards her room. He knows that she is worried about him, which is absurd considering her current state. She always worries about him when he seems angry or emotional. He hates showing that side to her. She doesn’t need to worry about someone like him.

Izumi quietly gets up from her place on the couch, hands grasping the blanket and towel as she slowly heads for her room. Obito watches her leave, the smile remaining on his face until she finally disappears. His brows immediately turn down into a frown as he walks to the kitchen, the anger he had been holding back suddenly building up in his gut.

 _Since the beginning of the year,_ the phrase repeats itself over and over again in his head. His little sister. Bullied. Since the _beginning of the year._ It’s already been three months into the school year. Some pricks have been messing with his little sister for three months now.

Obito slams his hand against a nearby wall, frustration building up again. _Powerless,_ he just feels so _powerless._ First his father, then his sister. Everything in his life seems so out of his hands, he can’t do anything about any of their problems and it frustrates him to no end.

-

It’s Friday afternoon when Kakashi spots Obito outside of the school. The younger student had left the building with a sandwich during lunch, hoping to find some place to eat that was secluded enough from the rest of the student population. He had found that sitting in the cafeteria was utterly _exhausting,_ especially as more and more of his classmates actively began to sought him out. It was as if the entire school, after getting over their initial shock of him, suddenly wanted the new kid as their friend, which Kakashi thought was fucking ridiculous. He isn’t exactly sure what changed, but he knows that they’ll eventually learn that he’s not worth their time anyways. So he’s keeping as much distance from them as possible.

Kakashi watches curiously as Obito pulls out a cigarette, sitting on a bench just outside of the school entrance. The younger takes a bite out of his sandwich as he exits the building himself, approaching the suspended student quietly.

“Hey,” Kakashi greets once he’s close enough, and Obito glances up from his seat on the bench. The older gives him a nod of acknowledgement as he holds his cigarette between his lips. Kakashi takes a seat next to him, chewing on his sandwich as he watches the other student light the stick. “Smoking right in front of the school?” Kakashi questions in a somewhat playful manner, but as soon as he says it, he can feel some tension in the air. “…Takes some balls, but as soon as the principal sees you, you’re dead.” When he finishes, he waits for Obito to make some sort of sound to let him know that he is only imagining that tension.

Obito doesn’t respond, eyes trained on something in the distance.

Kakashi swallows, suddenly feeling awkward as Obito remains silent. “What are you doing here anyways?” Kakashi tries once more to relieve the tension, finding it just as unbearable as sitting in the cafeteria.

Obito again does not reply, only blows out a cloud of smoke as he continues to stare pensively at nothing in particular.

Kakashi feels his eye twitch a little. Impulsively, he grabs the cigarette right out of Obito’s fingers, dropping it onto the ground and snuffing under his shoe. Obito’s eyes widen as he watches, and he gives the younger a furious glare. “What the _fuck,_ man?”

“Stop ignoring me,” Kakashi rebukes, continuing to stomp on the now wasted cigarette. “You’ve been jiggling your leg this entire time and acting like an angsty drama queen. Did something happen to you?” 

Obito continues to glare at him, but when Kakashi refuses to lose their staring contest, the older looks away. “Nothing happened,” he utters unconvincingly, almost childishly, and Kakashi watches as Obito’s knee tenses up in an attempt to stop it from moving.

“Don’t try to lie to me,” Kakashi says with a glower. “You can’t just show up to school like this knowing that if the principal catches you you’d get expelled. Something’s up. I know I barely know you, but I can tell you’re not _this_ stupid.”

Obito meets eyes with him for just a second before he looks away again, a gruff sound of irritation emitting from his throat. “Just fuck off, Kakashi,” he mutters, suddenly getting up and walking away. “It’s none of your business.”

Kakashi stares in disbelief at the older’s retreating back. _“Just fuck off, Kakashi,”_ he repeats sarcastically before running over to catch up with Obito. “Just tell me what’s wrong! Clearly something’s bothering you!”

“I said to fuck off!” Obito calls over his shoulder as he pulls out another cigarette. “Jesus _Christ,_ you’re annoying.”

Kakashi rolls his eyes, rushing and standing in front of the older male, effectively stopping him in his tracks. “So are _you,”_ he says, shoving his sandwich against the other student’s chest, eyes narrowing as Obito quickly averts his own gaze to stare disgustedly at the action. “Stop being such a fucking prick. Tell me what’s wrong.”

Obito again locks eyes with the younger, a deep frown on his features as he inspects him. He puts the pack of cigarettes away, shoving his hands into his pockets as he steps back a bit, suddenly conscious of their proximity. “Why do you even want to know?” he questions monotonously before roughly shoving past the younger to continue to walk away. “It’s not like you care anyways.”

Kakashi stumbles backwards, his sandwich falling clumsily out of his hands. He stares blankly down at the spread of bread, lettuce, and turkey slices across the ground. _This is ridiculous,_ Kakashi thinks to himself as his fists clench at his sides.

“Yeah, you’re right. I _don’t_ care,” he states in agreement, and Obito pauses. Kakashi straightens up, tearing his gaze from his fallen sandwich and onto the back of Obito’s head. “But _you_ clearly do.” The older student casts him an exasperated look over his shoulder, and Kakashi picks up a piece of lettuce, flinging it at the other. “ _Just tell me,_ you bastard!” His voice comes out high and bratty, like a child begging for dessert. It makes even himself cringe.

The lettuce sticks onto the back of Obito’s parka, and Kakashi watches as the look of irritation on Obito’s face intensifies. “You’re a fucking child,” Obito remarks, but he makes no attempt to try to remove the food from his jacket. When Kakashi doesn’t respond, the older lets out an aggravated sigh. “I found out recently that my little sister has been getting bullied for almost three months now,” he finally confesses, his brows creased together. “I couldn’t fucking believe it.”

Kakashi blinks, his posture relaxing as he listens. “Oh,” he says, because he didn’t expect Obito to actually tell him what was wrong. “I’m… I’m sorry.” He frowns, contemplating the older’s words.

Obito rolls his eyes at the superficial response, but he fully turns around to face Kakashi properly. “Yeah, so am I.” He bites his lip, gaze suddenly falling to his shoes. “Izumi doesn’t fucking deserve it. Any of it.”

“Of course she doesn’t,” Kakashi replies. “No one deserves to get bullied.” Then, after a moment, he eyes the older male. “What are you going to do about it?”

Obito seems to think for a few seconds before he shakes his head. “I can’t do anything about it. I already contacted her school, but the teachers clearly don’t give a shit about what happens to their students.” He sighs. “I can’t fucking do _anything.”_ And he sounds so _frustrated._

“Bullshit,” Kakashi says with a dismissive wave, and Obito glances up at him in question, an eyebrow quirked. “There’s _plenty_ of things you can do.”

Obito’s back straightens up as he eyes the younger carefully, giving him his full attention. “Like what?”

Kakashi toes at the discarded food by his shoes, a small smile appearing on his lips as he speaks, “You can show up in person and talk to the teachers or principal yourself. Usually school administrators shit their pants when confronted in person, then they’ll do as you ask. You could also teach Izumi self-defense so that she can learn how to protect herself, just like a big girl can.” When Kakashi sees that Obito is unconvinced, or more accurately, _unimpressed,_ he says, “Or, you can always show up at her school yourself and give her bullies a little… _talk.”_

Obito scoffs, shaking his head as if wondering why he even bothered to listen to the younger student. “You’re so full of shit,” he states flatly.

Kakashi merely shrugs. “Say what you will, but little kids are cowards.” He nods towards Obito’s face. “One look at you, and whoever those punks are will be praying for their mothers.” Obito subconsciously touches his black eye, knowing that he still looks pretty busted up from their fight.

“I’m not going to beat a child,” Obito utters, clearly unamused with the comment on his appearance.

“Of course not,” Kakashi retorts as he digs his foot into the bread beneath his shoes. “That’s not what I meant. All you have to do is be there, be _somewhat_ threatening. Trust me, those kids won’t have the guts to mess with your sister after you ‘talk’ to them.”

Obito stares at Kakashi for a moment, as if waiting for him to reveal some sort of strange trick. Kakashi merely stares back. The older then lets out a loud and long sigh, hesitance in his voice as he says, “I wouldn’t even know what to say,” then, after a moment, “or what they even look like.”

“If they’ve been messing with your sister for this long, they’ll probably show up today, too.” Kakashi suddenly begins walking towards Obito again, and Obito watches as the younger passes him to head for the parking lot.

“Today?” Obito repeats in disbelief, turning back around to catch up with the other student. “Also, where the hell are you going?”

“Today,” Kakashi reiterates with a nod, and he glances back to give Obito a smile as they continue to walk to the parking lot. “And _we’re_ going to go to your little sister’s school to meet up with her little bullies.”

Obito stops walking, mouth open in shock. _“We?”_ he repeats again, and Kakashi rolls his eyes. _“Today? We?”_

“Yes, _we,_ yes, _today.”_ Kakashi lets out an annoyed sigh. “It’s not that complicated! If we don’t do this today, you’ll probably never fucking do it. And if you don’t know what to say, I’ll say whatever needs to be said for you. We’re going to get those bastards, Obito. We’re going to kick their asses.”

“Kakashi.”

“Okay, we’re not _actually_ going to kick their asses. But we’re going to kick their asses. Figuratively.”

Obito’s shoulders sag in defeat, somehow getting the feeling that he won’t be able to talk his way out of this. Slowly, he begins to walk after the younger. “Don’t you have classes to go to still?” he tries, but he knows it’s a lame attempt.

Kakashi waves a hand dismissively, the student searching for Obito’s car in the parking lot. “It won’t hurt to miss a couple. And unlike you, I don’t make skipping a habit.” He winks. “This is more important, anyways.”

Obito eyes the younger a bit warily before a sigh escapes his lips. “I still don’t like this idea.”

“Trust me, we’re going to kick their asses, Obito. Figuratively.”

“Shut the fuck up.”

-

Obito feels massively awkward as he stands by the school’s entrance gates with Kakashi, the two teens blatantly out of place. A few parents who had come by to pick up their children give them harsh and suspicious looks, and the students that walk by avoid eye contact with them as frantically and obviously as possible. Kakashi seems completely unaffected by the negative attention, and Obito wonders once again why he even agreed to this.

Kakashi seems more into the idea than him, too, if Kakashi’s constant searching through the crowds of grade schoolers says anything. Obito himself is trying his best to avoid looking at any of the students, his hood covering most of his face. Kakashi glances at him momentarily. “Do you see your sister?” he asks as he continues to stare intensely at the children who pass by.

Obito eyes him a bit tiredly. “No,” he murmurs.

Kakashi returns the look. “Come on, Obito. This is for your sister. At least try to sound motivated.”

Obito lets out a grunt of mild irritation. Just as he opens his mouth to speak, he spots a familiar figure in the distance. Kakashi catches his moment of hesitation and follows his gaze. “Is that her?” he asks, but Obito isn’t listening.

Instead he watches as Izumi is slowly backed into a fence by three girls, clearly unsure and frightened. The three girls appear to be laughing as they pick at her hair, her clothes, stepping closer and closer and forcing her into her corner. Obito feels his blood begin to boil at the scene, all previous uncertainties abandoned as he storms over to the group. Kakashi calls after him, but Obito continues on his path, eyes set directly on his little sister’s look of fear, on the girls that continue to laugh and poke at her in sick amusement.

Just as one of them shoves her against the fence and Izumi cries out, Obito yells, _“Hey!”_ All four girls pause at the voice, the bullies turning around and coming face to face with Obito’s taller stature. They all seem to immediately shrink in fear, and Obito finally understands what Kakashi was trying to say earlier.

 _Cowards,_ Obito thinks to himself, hiding the smugness from his face. He feels a bit embarrassed for feeling proud of successfully intimidating some little girls, but anyone who fucks with his sister deserves what is coming. He catches Izumi’s eye, his sister harboring an expression of both shock and horror. He then trains his gaze back onto the group of girls, his glower hardening. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” he questions, his tone dark and demanding.

The three girls all look between each other, faces uncertain, a silent conversation expressed between their eyes. The tallest one steps up, though she is still several inches shorter than Obito. She clears her throat, straightening her shoulders out in an attempt to look bigger. “We’re just having some fun,” she says, and Obito finds her excuse funny enough to laugh.

It’s a loud and overbearing one, sounding almost superficial, but to the girls, it is menacing enough. “Having some _fun?”_ he echoes, mockingly, and suddenly he feels another presence by his side. He does not need to look to know that Kakashi is with him, as the three girls’ faces seem to increase in fear at the new addition. “It looked to me as if you were getting ready to harass this poor girl.” He nods at Izumi, whose face is red with embarrassment.

When the tallest girl struggles to formulate a response, another one, with dyed hair, steps up. “She’s our friend. You should just mind your own business,” she says rather defiantly, and Obito can admit he’s mildly impressed with her sudden burst of bravery.

Kakashi glances over at Obito, waiting for his response. Obito crosses his arms. “Cut the bullshit,” he growls, voice low and threatening. “If you ever touch her again, I’ll be sure to give you three a reason to cry at night.”

The three girls all tense up, but the one with dyed hair speaks up again. “Why do you even care?” she yells, voice screechy and unpleasant to the ears. “Shouldn’t you be working or something instead of messing with some kids? Gosh! Get a life!” She flinches back when Obito trains his steely glare on her.

“I’ll tell you why I care,” he begins, his voice a rumble as he takes a step towards the whiny girl. She immediately stumbles backwards, her friends catching her arms as they stare up at him in worry. He bends over, meeting her eye level and coming close enough to her face to see the bit of acne on her skin. He can hear the tremble in her breath as a smirk decorates his expression. “She’s my sister.” He then backs off, watching as the three girls give Izumi shocked looks, the latter’s face flaming from the entire exchange. “And _no one_ messes with my fucking sister.”

Their eyes collectively widen in fear under Obito’s harsh glare, and the two look towards the girl with dyed hair to say more, only to find that their “leader” is at a loss for words, too. Her knees begin to shake as she stares up at Obito, the older merely staring back down at her with unblinking eyes. Obito lifts his hand to brush his fingers through his hair, but the three girls flinch in fear, mistaking the action for an oncoming strike. They waste no more time as they run off, leaving the two teens and Izumi alone.

Obito watches them leave, dumbfounded before a laugh of amusement escapes his lips.

Kakashi joins him, punching him playfully on the shoulder. “You didn’t even need me to say anything,” he says, pride in his tone. “I told you kids are cowards.”

Obito stares at him for a moment before laughing again, giving the younger a somewhat grateful smile. “That was too fucking easy.” Kakashi offers him a hand, and Obito takes it in his own grasp, pulling each other into a friendly shoulder bump.

Izumi clears her throat, and two males pull away from each other to look at her. Her face is redder than Obito thought was humanly possible, and he watches in amusement as she stutters. “W-What in the world are you doing here?” she practically screeches, covering her cheeks with her hands. “A-and…w-who is that?”

Kakashi gives her a friendly smile. “Hi. I’m Kakashi.”

Izumi merely lets out a noise of confusion, rubbing her cheeks as if attempting to erase herself from existence. “I-I can’t believe y-you just did that! O-oh god. This is so embarrassing!”

Obito laughs at her misery, finding the situation silly as he reaches an arm out and pulls her into a comforting hug. “I know, I know. It was fucking weird for me, too.” He stares down at her face, seeing that despite her blushing cheeks, she looks relieved. “At least you know for sure that they’ll never mess with you again.”

Izumi is quiet for a moment, absorbing his words, and then she slowly hugs Obito back. “Thank you,” she says quietly, burying her face into his coat.

Obito smiles again, running his fingers through her hair in a soothing manner. “You’re welcome,” he says back, and just as he’s about to place a small kiss on her forehead, he catches Kakashi’s eyes.

Kakashi is staring at him with the world’s cheekiest smirk, and Obito quickly pulls away from Izumi, suddenly embarrassed himself. “Oh, please,” Kakashi says tauntingly, bowing mockingly. “Don’t mind me.”

“Fuck off, dude,” Obito mutters with a shove, and Kakashi laughs as he catches himself.

“Who would have thought the tough _Uchiha Obito_ had a soft spot for his little sister,” Kakashi continues to tease, swinging his head back and forth, and Obito wishes he could just punch the asshole in the face again.

He would, if Izumi wasn’t standing right there.

Before Obito can somehow verbally retaliate, Kakashi suddenly turns and smiles at Izumi. “Would you like to get some frozen yogurt?” he offers, kneeling down and staring up at her with friendly eyes. “Bullies suck! But you’re still okay, so I’m sure you deserve it for being such a strong little girl.”

Obito scoffs, rolling his eyes. “It’s freezing, dipshit. There’s no way—”

“I love frozen yogurt!” Izumi cheers, and both her and Kakashi turn to look at Obito. Izumi has a hopeful look in her eyes, begging him to say yes to the frozen dessert. Kakashi’s face is already smug, knowing what Obito’s answer will be. It irritates the older male a bit, that stupid look on Kakashi’s face that he still wishes he can wipe off with his fist, but Obito nods his head in defeat.

“Fine,” Obito finally utters, and both Kakashi and Izumi cry out in victory. Izumi takes Obito’s hand, dragging him to follow Kakashi, who had already began walking towards the gates.

He glances down at Izumi for a moment, taking in the smile on her face and the rose of her cheeks, her eyes that had looked so tired and drained the other day suddenly so filled with life. He stares down at their hands and how firmly Izumi holds his, and he’s again reminded of when they were younger, of how she always held onto him, looked up to him, searched for him for guidance and protection. He had almost forgotten what that was like.

Obito peeks up at Kakashi, the boy talking loudly about nothing in particular, but Izumi seems to find it funny as she laughs along with whatever tale he’s trying to spin. _He’s so fucking weird,_ Obito thinks to himself as Izumi suddenly breaks away from him, running instead to catch up with Kakashi’s speedy pace. A smile makes its way onto Obito’s face before he can stop himself.

_…But he’s a good person._

-

Obito makes it through his first day back at school just as mind-numbed as he thought he’d be. What was most striking was that he hadn’t seen Kakashi at all that morning.

Obito had actually come to school on time, which meant that he was in their first and only class together with Mrs. Nara. Kakashi hadn’t shown up, which both puzzled and disappointed Obito. The latter wondered if Kakashi might have been sick or if he simply didn’t feel like showing up to school today. Nonetheless, with no Kakashi around to entertain him during his first period or anything to do in any of the others, Obito had slept in the back of each of his classes all the way up until lunch.

He shows up to the cafeteria with nothing in his hands. Obito only prepared lunch for Izumi, intending to preserve the bread and peanut butter they had left for her. He is really counting on his mother’s monthly check, since it’s clear that their father couldn’t care less about whether or not he and Izumi starve.

The student roams the cafeteria in search of Genma, knowing that their lovely class president would give him some lunch upon request. Genma always has money to spare, and although he acts like he doesn’t give a shit about whether or not Obito starves, he’ll give him food anyways.

Obito apparently does not need to find Genma, for as soon as he walks through the cafeteria doors, Genma is by his side, shoving a sandwich into his hands. “Here,” the brown-haired male says, eyes focused somewhere else as he drops the item for Obito to take. “I see you decided to show up to school today after all.”

Obito grabs the sandwich and immediately unwraps it, taking his first bite for the day. He hadn’t realized just how hungry he was until he tasted the mediocre turkey sandwich. It tastes like heaven for him in that moment. “I told you, I don’t intend to get kicked out of school,” he says plainly, taking a side glance at the other, who is staring at him rather intensely. “What?”

“You know what happened during Biology class today?” Genma asks, and Obito rolls his eyes, because he can tell this is another one of Genma’s stupid rumors of the day. “Don’t roll your eyes at me, jackass, I gave you a sandwich.”

“Thanks, your highness. Shall I wash your feet for you?” Obito remarks, and Genma lets out a huff.

“It’s about Kakashi, you ungrateful twat,” he retorts, crossing his arms in annoyance.

That catches Obito’s attention. “What happened with him?”

“Oh, _now_ you care,” Genma quips immaturely, and Obito lets out his own grunt of irritation. “Is he the only person you give a shit about in this world or something? Are you two suddenly best friends or some shit? Did you fuck him sometime this weekend and now you’re in love with him?”

“Will you shut the fuck up?” Obito bites into his sandwich again, speaking as he chews, “Don’t tell me what happened with him then, if you’re going to be a little bitch about it.”

Genma lets out a sigh. “I was just messing with you. Jeez, you’re in an awfully terrible mood today.”

“I’m always in a terrible mood,” Obito remarks. Rather, he’s always in a terrible mood around Genma. “Especially when I’m around you,” he decides to tell him, just to be spiteful.

“Choke and die,” Genma mutters, and Obito gives him a half-assed middle finger. “Anyways,” he begins, as if that entire exchange hadn’t just happened, “we were doing a lab during class today and got assigned partners. Kakashi showed up kind of late, which was unfortunate for the nerd he got paired up with. Gai, you know him, the freaky dude with a bowl cut.” Obito hums in semi-acknowledgement, imagining the other second year student who doesn’t really talk to anyone else at school. “I guess Kakashi wasn’t really pulling his weight in the lab? I was working at the station behind them and I heard Gai trying to get him to listen or help or do _something_ useful. But Kakashi looked totally _out of it._ When he finally did say something, it made no sense.”

“So Kakashi did come to school?” Obito wonders out loud, not too interested in the story but at the fact that Kakashi showed up after all. He makes a mental note to look for the younger after school.

“Yes, he did. Late. But like, during the lab, all Kakashi did was mumble to himself. He said something about secrets in the wind or wall or some shit. He was speaking really quietly, I couldn’t really hear, I don’t know,” Genma continues. “Gai looked like he was about ready to jump out of a window. But get this—” Genma suddenly shifts tone, stepping closer into Obito’s personal space and taking up a conspiratorial tone, “as soon as Gai tapped him on the shoulder to get his attention, Kakashi _freaked_ out.”

Obito raises an eyebrow, stepping back a bit. “Okay?”

“He just straight-up punched Gai in the face!” Genma clarifies as if it’s the most exciting thing in the world. He seems rather amused for an _honorable_ class president. Obito frowns. “Absolutely _destroyed_ that nerd with one punch! It was like watching a tree fall! Oh god, I had to take poor Gai to the nurse’s. But before that, Kakashi did one other weird thing.”

“Delightful,” Obito murmurs as if he’s uninterested, but in truth, the fact that Kakashi just punched a random kid in the face seemed… uncharacteristic of him. Even if that was how Kakashi and him first greeted each other.

Genma doesn’t appear to notice Obito’s tone. “Kakashi took one look at Gai, one look at his own fist, and just said ‘fuck’ super loud and exited the classroom. Gone. Never came back.” Genma shakes his head, clearly thoroughly amused with his own story. “Don’t know where he went. Probably the principal’s. That’s where the teacher sent him anyways, even though Kakashi kind of already left. I took Gai to the nurse’s as I would. Poor guy’s nose is probably broken.” Genma laughs a little. “Kakashi’s a fucking _riot,_ dude. I still wouldn’t fuck with him, but he’s entertaining as hell.”

Obito finishes off his sandwich, tossing the plastic bag into a nearby trash can. “What happened to Gai?”

Genma shrugs. “I don’t know. I didn’t bother to stay. He’s probably fine though. A bit overdramatic, but fine.” Obito nods his head, shoving his hands into his pockets as he turns to leave the cafeteria. Genma frowns, calling after him. “Where are you going?”

Obito spares him a glance over his shoulder. _Finding Kakashi,_ but he doesn’t want to say that out loud. “Bathroom,” he answers, not bothering to wait for Genma’s responses as he exits through the doors, finding himself in an empty hallway.

He isn’t really sure where to look first, or why he even wants to see Kakashi. He hates to admit it, but Genma’s story really did interest him this time. Obito just wants to hear Kakashi’s side of the story, at least that’s what he tells himself as he begins to wander through the halls in search for the other student.

Of course Obito knew Kakashi could handle himself in a fight. But the younger didn’t seem like the type to get into one unprovoked, which is why the situation seemed odd to Obito. There must have been something else there, something else that Genma is missing. Hopefully Kakashi could clear it up. Maybe Gai really did do something to piss Kakashi off, who knows?

Obito pauses in his steps when he spots a figure down the hallway. For once, Obito is glad that their school is so small. It makes it that much easier to find someone.

Kakashi is walking towards him, a distant look in his eyes. Obito stands there, prepared to greet the younger when the latter just walks by without acknowledging him at all. Obito gapes, glancing over his shoulder and watching as Kakashi continues walking down the hall without sparing Obito even a blink of his eyes, hands stuffed in his pockets and silver hair an absolute mess.

Obito frowns, wondering if Kakashi is mad about whatever happened in his Biology class, or at Obito, though he isn’t sure why Kakashi would be mad at him at all. Obito hadn’t seen Kakashi over the weekend, which shouldn’t matter too much as they left on good terms last Friday with Izumi. He couldn’t think of anything he could have done to anger the younger, so why did he ignore Obito? Sure, Obito is an ass in general and probably deserves to be ignored anyways, but he didn’t think Kakashi minded. He thought that Kakashi’s indifference towards Obito’s terrible attitude indicated some sort of… friendship. Not that Obito really cared. No. He shouldn’t care. Kakashi might be the only other student besides Genma who isn’t afraid of him at this damn school, but Obito doesn’t really care if they’re really friends or not…

…Still, the behavior is unsettling.

“Hey,” Obito calls out to the younger, turning to follow Kakashi down the hall. The other student continues walking, not even flinching. “Kakashi!”

Kakashi still doesn’t seem to hear, and when Obito finally reaches him, he grabs him by the shoulder, forcing the younger to turn around. Kakashi seems to jump, startled, but his eyes finally begin to focus and land on Obito. Obito notices the earphones in his ears and raises an eyebrow in interest. He suddenly gets déjà vu to their first meeting, and how Kakashi had been completely zoned out when Obito had confronted him.

Kakashi pulls the buds out and squints at Obito. “What?” he says, seemingly confused.

Obito frowns for a moment. “…Are you mad at me?” As soon as he says it, embarrassment coats Obito’s features. He hadn’t meant to sound so… sad.

Kakashi tilts his head to the side contemplatively, but then realization seems to dawn on him. “Oh, Obito,” he says, as if finally recognizing the older. The latter blinks. “I didn’t see you there. You’re off your suspension?”

Obito looks around the hallway, confused. He is definitely the only other person in the hallway… how did Kakashi even miss him? “Uh…” Obito’s eyes fall to the earbuds in Kakashi’s hand, noting how the music is so loud, he can hear it playing from the earphones. “Yeah,” is all he can say, and he feels stupid again.

Kakashi hums. The two stand in silence for a moment before the younger speaks again, “Well, see you.” He then turns to leave, moving to place his earphones back into his ears.

Obito is startled by the dismissal (and slightly offended). He immediately wonders if Kakashi had any interest in him at all. He seemed to be awfully interested in his company last week, but now? Why does it seem like Kakashi doesn’t want to talk to him? It shouldn’t bother Obito this much, he knows, but for some reason he can’t help but want to know what is wrong with Kakashi. Why the younger is acting so weird…

“Wait,” Obito says, pulling on his shoulder again. Kakashi turns to look at him with an annoyed look in his eyes, one that throws Obito off. “Are you actually… mad?” He flinches a bit at the phrasing.

Kakashi seems to pause for a moment. “Why would I be mad?” he asks, curiosity in his tone, and Obito thinks it’s sarcasm for a moment until he sees how genuinely confused Kakashi looks.

“Never… never mind,” Obito mumbles, feeling his cheeks heat up a little as he shoves his hands into his pockets. He suddenly feels very foolish, stopping Kakashi in the middle of the hall like this. And for caring about how Kakashi might feel towards him. Obito is aware that he himself doesn’t have anyone he can call a friend. Maybe he was stupid to believe Kakashi might have considered him one. He knows that at this point it’d be easier if he just let Kakashi walk off, but he decides to change the subject instead. “I heard you punched some kid in the face today.”

Kakashi’s eyes seem to change somehow at the mention. Obito can’t really pinpoint it. “Oh, yeah, the asshole had it coming,” he says with a strangely unbothered smile, shrugging. Obito gives him a look of suspicion. “What? He did!” Kakashi exclaims.

“Gai? The nerd in the back of the class?” Obito questions in doubt.

“As if being nerdy is relevant,” Kakashi says with a roll of his eyes. “He was eyeing me weird. Judging me. I could tell.”

Obito scoffs. “I doubt he was actually eyeing you weird. The dude barely makes eye contact with anyone. He’s like a little trembling squirrel.”

Kakashi huffs. “He _definitely_ eyed me funny. Gave me a weird look, one that was just _asking_ to be punched.” He then shrugs. “I don’t really care that much anymore anyways. It happened like, what, an hour ago? I’m over it. It really wasn’t that deep. I was on my way to buy him chocolates, actually. You said his name was Gai?” Kakashi talks so fast and turns around even faster, walking again. “He’s not allergic to chocolate, is he?”

Obito can’t help but feel strange about this conversation. Something feels… off. He stares a little dumbfoundedly at Kakashi’s back before catching up. “You’re going to buy him _chocolates?”_ he asks, the disbelief clear in his tone. “You’re… That’s really fucking weird.”

“How is it weird?” Kakashi asks back, frowning in confusion. “I’m just being nice. Making peace.”

“You don’t kick a guy’s ass and buy him chocolates,” Obito utters. “At least buy him dinner first,” he tries to joke, but he stares at Kakashi carefully as they walk. Something about the younger’s posture seems too stiff and presented.

Kakashi punches Obito’s shoulder playfully, a small smile on his face. “I just want him to know that I have no hard feelings… It’s just that he kind of deserved it. He should know not to look at me weird. Hell, maybe we could be friends after this.”

Obito can’t help but feel a bit amused. “Do you befriend all the kids you punch in the face?”

Kakashi shrugs. “Maybe it’s a talent.” His eyes suddenly light up. “Oh! There he is!” Obito glances up in time to see Gai walk around the corner, the boy holding a tissue against his nose. Gai immediately stops when he sees Kakashi and Obito approaching him.

“Oh, god. Please, stay away from me!” Gai cries so quickly that Obito almost didn’t understand what he said. He turns on his toes to walk in the other direction, but Kakashi grabs him by the arm before he could leave.

“Hey, sorry about punching you in the face,” Kakashi says, sending Gai a large smile that even Obito finds mildly terrifying. “You like chocolate? I’ll buy you chocolate.”

“Please let me go,” Gai quickly begs again, Obito silently finding the sight amusing. Gai has a larger built than Kakashi, but the way he’s cowering right now makes him appear so small.

“Stay here, I’m buying you chocolate,” Kakashi cheerfully replies, ignoring his classmate’s pleas and running off to the vending machine down the hall. Gai watches him with bewildered eyes before glancing at Obito in a mixture of fear and exasperation. He seems hesitant to say anything, clearly equally afraid of Obito as well.

Obito snorts in amusement a little before shrugging. “Just let him buy you chocolate, man.”

“What the hell does he want with me?” Gai practically sobs, dropping his tissues to the floor. Obito watches as it hits the ground in slight disgust. “I didn’t do anything! I’ve literally been avoiding him ever since he got into that fight with you!” he confesses, then immediately takes two step backs. “God, I’ve been avoiding you, too. Please don’t hurt me! This is the worst day of my life!”

Obito holds his hands up in defense. “I’m not going to do anything to you, dude. Chill out,” he says plainly, as if the thought of even touching Gai isn’t worth his time. “Maybe you shouldn’t have looked at him funny.”

Gai stares at Obito as if he has two heads. “Look at him funny? He didn’t look up at all during our lab! I didn’t get a chance to even see his face properly until he was punching _mine!”_ His shout startles Obito, who grimaces, and Gai immediately shrinks again. “Sorry for yelling, please don’t hit me!”

Obito gives him an annoyed look. “I already said I’m not going to hit you, dumbass.” He pauses for a moment. “Kakashi said you were giving him a judging look or something.”

“As if I’d be stupid enough to do that!” Gai retorts. “I value my life! God, what’s his problem?” He flinches again, but before the other could redundantly apologize, Obito interrupts him.

“Hey, he’s buying you chocolates. I don’t think you have anything to worry about,” Obito says somewhat reassuringly. Then after a moment, “Oh, maybe Kakashi has a crush on you.” It’s supposed to be a joke, a poor one of course, in hopes of lightening up the mood somehow.

Gai looks as if he peed his pants. _“Fuck_ no! This can’t be happening! If this is his screwed up way of courting me, I want out!” He tears at the ends of his hair a little, and Obito takes a step back, a bit unnerved by the reaction.

“I’m joking, dude. Kind of.” Obito scratches the back of his neck. _This kid is hopeless._ “Maybe if you tell him you’re taken, he’ll fuck off.”

Gai gives Obito an exasperated look before jumping twenty feet out of his skin when Kakashi suddenly returns, a chocolate bar in his hand. Obito lets out a small breath of relief, glad that Kakashi returned and relieved him of his Gai-consoling attempts. Obito is briefly reminded of why he didn’t even bother to associate with most of the students at school.

Kakashi shoves the chocolate into Gai’s grasp, the other student looking as if he might combust on the spot. “There you go! No hard feelings, right?” Kakashi chirps, smile wide and semi-inviting, but Gai seems to find it absolutely terrifying.

“I’m not gay!” Gai screams so loud Obito is pretty sure the entire school can hear him, and his voice breaks as he throws the chocolate onto the ground where his tissues remains. Kakashi merely gives him a look of confusion, one which Gai interprets as a threat, as he immediately takes off down the hall.

Kakashi turns to Obito, frowning. “I didn’t think he was,” he says, bending over to pick up the discarded chocolate. “What made him clench so hard that he had to say that?”

Obito bites back the urge to laugh. He feels a bit bad for lying to Gai like that as it most likely scarred the poor boy for life, but he can’t say he regrets it. “I guess he doesn’t like chocolate.”

Kakashi hums in understanding, not noticing Obito’s meek attempts to hide his laughter. “That’s too bad.” He then hands Obito the discarded bar. “You can have it, then.”

Obito takes it without a word, shoving it into his pocket. Although the scene was amusing, Obito still can’t help but feel a bit unsettled.

Obito isn’t sure Kakashi is telling him the truth, or at least all of the truth. It bothers him, and he wonders if he’s in the place to pry. Kakashi had pried the other day and had been successful in helping Obito with his problem, but would it work the other way around as well? Did he even have a right?

“Hey, you know Genma?” Obito suddenly asks, deciding that the best course of action is to change the subject. Kakashi stares at him attentively. “Want to crash at his place after school?”

Kakashi gives him a suspicious look. “What? The class president?”

Obito smile a little, forgetting that to everyone else, Genma is a picture perfect role model. “The window to his bedroom doesn’t have a lock and his backyard tree is just tall enough to boost us in.”

Kakashi blinks at Obito. “We’re going to break into the class president’s house?”

Obito shrugs. “I wouldn’t call it breaking in…” He’s done it plenty of times before. Genma used to be pissed whenever he found Obito smoking on his bed, but after a while the boy stopped questioning it. He doesn’t know how Genma would react if he saw Kakashi there, though. However he would, it’d probably be funny as hell. Obito just likes messing with Genma. It’d probably be a good way to distract both himself and Kakashi from whatever it was that was bothering him. “It’s more like… _inviting_ ourselves in to Genma’s home.”

“…That’s definitely breaking in,” Kakashi deadpans. Then, after a moment, “Let’s do it.”

-

Obito texted Kakashi to wait outside for him. Apparently the older student had gotten held back after class upon request of a concerned teacher. Kakashi didn’t care enough to ask for more details. He respects the other’s request, settling against the entrance gates of the school to wait for him.

It suddenly clicks in Kakashi’s mind why exactly he’s waiting at the school gates for Obito. He thinks about Genma and how the older male had taken him to his first class on his first day of school. He had offered to give Kakashi a tour, to which Kakashi immediately turned down. Genma had given him a smile that Kakashi could only describe as princely before turning to leave, telling him to seek him out whenever Kakashi needed anything. Everyone seemed to think so highly of Genma, well, everyone except for Obito.

He wonders what the relationship might be between Obito and Genma. Kakashi has never seen the two together, but that might partly be due to the fact that Obito was suspended for the past week. Every time Kakashi happened to see Genma during school, the older male would be surrounded by admirers. He did seem to always disappear during lunch, however. Kakashi wonders if the two are somewhat friends, or maybe enemies would make more sense, since they are planning on breaking into the class president’s house.

He entertains the idea that the two are secret boyfriends or something, like a page right out of a book. The school’s most notorious delinquent and most beloved class president, secret lovers behind the scenes. The idea brings an amused smile to Kakashi’s face before his thoughts suddenly turn around to this morning.

Kakashi had another nightmare. It was why he was late to school, and it was all he could think about up until he socked that his poor classmate in the face. He hadn’t meant to, he really hadn’t mean to. Gai was just in the wrong place at the wrong time. The images were so persistent… too terrible to forget that they consumed him all morning.

And when Obito asked about why he had punched poor Gai, he couldn’t tell him the truth. Not when he had punched Obito for a very similar reason. If the older knew how frequent his freakish nightmares were, who knows how he’d react? What if Obito wouldn’t want to associate with him any longer?

And this nightmare was worse than the last. Worse than any he’s had by far. They seem to gradually become more and more terrible as time goes by.

This time, he had been tied to a chair in the middle of a dark and tiny room. A single light bulb swung above his head, casting a faint light that did little to aid Kakashi’s dwindling sight. He hadn’t been able to move, as if he were _paralyzed,_ and even as the shadows from the corners of the room grew in length, he could do nothing. The shadows cascaded together and formed a small figure, frail, trembling, directly opposite of Kakashi’s own place. Despite it lacking a face it seemed to stare directly into Kakashi’s own eyes, reading his thoughts, capturing them in its grasp.

And then it crept closer, and closer, and closer, and the light bulb continued to swing above Kakashi’s head, but its light seemed to dim with every second and the shadows grew and grew, expanding, bathing his feet in darkness, his shins, his legs, his arms, his torso, until all that was left were his eyes. His eyes, connected to the figure’s imposing presence, unable to look away or blink, captured. Closer and closer it crept, the shadows consuming Kakashi’s body as he screamed at himself to move. But he couldn’t. He couldn’t.

Kakashi forces the thoughts away, and it takes him a moment to realize that he had punched the wall of the school’s gates. He stares blankly at his knuckles which feel raw, skin torn and slightly bloodied. The sting does not come until a gust of wind blows against the exposed tissue, and a light hiss escapes his lips. His heart is beating erratically in his chest at the mere memory of his nightmare, and brief regret crosses his mind.

 _Maybe you should’ve taken it._ Kakashi frowns. _You’re not yourself._

Kakashi closes his eyes, holding his fist against his chest to shield it away from the cold. He takes in deep breaths, ignoring everything else as he tries to find something to focus on. He decides to focus on the sound of his breathing, the prolonged inhales and exhales. When he feels sane enough, he opens his eyes.

Out of the corner of his eyes, he spots Iruka at the bus stop.

Kakashi resists the urge to roll his eyes at the sight. There the younger student is again, standing in the exact same spot with earphones in his ears. Normally Kakashi would be waiting there with him, but since he and Obito have plans to raid Genma’s home, he won’t have to take the bus today. But some strange part within Kakashi wants to go over there anyways. To at least say ‘hi’ to the weird kid, for whatever reason.

Kakashi’s feet move for him.


	4. Chapter 4

Kakashi had seen Iruka nearly every day of last week, besides Monday and Friday, when he went out with Obito. It was the same conversation each time, too. Iruka would ask Kakashi to join the gardening club, and Kakashi would find harsher ways to reject his invitations. No matter how ridiculous Kakashi’s excuses got or how verbally abusive his words were, Iruka refused to falter. Kakashi supposes that he could respect that level of perseverance.

He waves a hand in front of Iruka’s face, successfully catching his attention. Iruka gives him a smile as he takes out his earphones. “Kakashi!” he greets, just as cheerful as ever. Kakashi only waves again in return. “You know, we’re getting a new shipment of Sweet Peas at the club. Those guys will suck up any amount of water you give them, so you won’t really have to worry about overwatering like you said last time! And they also—”

“Iruka, if I could go in and tear every flower out of every pot in your stupid club, I would,” Kakashi remarks with no real malice as he hides his injured fist under his arm. “How are you?” he decides to ask. Maybe this time, Iruka will tell him something somewhat bearable.

“I’m great!” the younger student chirps, and somehow his smile seems to brighten. “I trimmed down the bonsai tree we were able to grow into a cuter shape. It’s really fun to look at now! See, that’s another thing you can do besides watering and planting and general tending. You can trim our plants into whatever shape you want—”

“Forget I asked,” Kakashi mutters, shaking his head at Iruka’s ridiculousness. He suddenly reveals his injured fist. “Check this out,” he says in another attempt to change the subject, and upon closer inspection, Kakashi thinks he really should wrap his hand in something.

Iruka glances down briefly at Kakashi’s fist, his mouth forming a little ‘o’ shape. “That looks like it hurts,” he says unhelpfully, but Kakashi does not comment on it. “You know, Lavender has wonderful healing properties, especially in regards to anxiety and sleeping. Sometimes its oils can be used to treat wounds like that. Aspens, too, have similar effects, but mostly in regards to dealing with stress and panic attacks. It can even help with nightmares.”

Kakashi's heart skips a beat, the boy suddenly feeling very cold. He gives Iruka an uncomfortable look before hiding his fist under his arm again. He opens his mouth in an attempt to say something crude back, but nothing comes out, and he suddenly regrets even approaching Iruka in the first place. Something about the younger student’s smile unsettles Kakashi, but before he can come up with an excuse to run off, he hears his name being called.

Kakashi immediately turns around, deliberately with his back facing Iruka as he watches Obito approach him. Obito is sporting his trademark parka once again, backpack slung lazily over one shoulder. Kakashi gives him a small wave, because he still cannot find his voice, and Obito nods back in acknowledgement.

“I thought you left without me,” Obito says somewhat sheepishly, which confuses Kakashi slightly.

“Really?” Kakashi finally regains the ability to speak, and he puts on the smuggest look he can. “That’s cute. You were worried I ditched you.”

Obito scoffs. “Don’t let it get to your head. I’m just looking for ways to mess with Genma. You being there makes it twice as good.” He adjusts his backpack into a more comfortable position on his shoulder. “What are you doing?”

Kakashi’s mind again wanders to the idea of Genma and Obito being secret lovers, and maybe he’s being invited to some weird threesome before he shakes the thought away. Kakashi suddenly remembers the underclassman, and he shifts a little so that he could gesture to him. “I was talking to Iruka,” he says.

Obito raises an eyebrow. “Who?”

Kakashi glances briefly over at Iruka, finding that the younger had put his earphones back in and seems to be staring off into space. “Iruka…” Kakashi repeats again, a bit louder this time, but it is clear that Iruka is too far gone into whatever music he’s listening to. Obito gives him an odd look, and Kakashi lets out a sigh. “Never mind.” _Weird kid._ “Let’s just go.” Kakashi joins Obito’s side and gives him a nod and a smile, indicating that he is ready to leave.

Obito stares at him for a moment longer, eyes unreadable before he nods. He pulls his car keys out and leads the way to the parking lot. “What happened to your hand?” he asks casually, just as Kakashi had forgotten about it.

Kakashi glances down at his injuries and shivers a little to himself, suddenly finding the sight very difficult to look at. “Punched a wall,” he answers plainly, gritting his teeth. “Hurts like a bitch.”

Obito blinks a little but does not question further, instead giving him an oddly comforting pat on the back. “Once we’re at Genma’s, I’ll get you something for that,” he offers.

Kakashi nods his head in gratitude. “Thanks,” he says, hiding his hand once more. He takes one last look over his shoulder, catching a glimpse of Iruka and the bus arriving at the stop. For a moment, things seem to pause as Iruka meets his eyes even from the distance. He isn’t smiling, face neutral and expression ambiguous. The bus door opens, and he gets on.

Kakashi swallows, feeling a sudden chill.

_That was new._

-

“Genma’s _loaded,”_ is the first thing Kakashi says when he climbs through the mentioned student’s window. “This is place is huge!”

Obito glances around the empty bedroom, silently agreeing. Genma’s house is relatively big, at least compared to most of the other houses in their town. But Obito knows Genma’s dad owns some sort of important business, so of course the kid is rich. Sometimes he irrationally hates Genma simply because he is rich, because he has all the things he wants in the world and more, because Genma never has to deal with spoiled milk or broken heaters. If Obito had half Genma’s money, life would be so much more bearable.

Obito goes over to Genma’s bed and feels under the mattress, pulling out a bag of weed. “Typical,” he mutters to himself, shaking the bag.

Kakashi glances over Obito’s shoulder in surprise. “Genma smokes?” Obito nods. “And do you steal his weed often?” Kakashi then asks, a bemused look on his face.

Obito shrugs, but he supposes that the fact he even knew where Genma hid his stash indicates an answer well enough. “I wouldn’t call it stealing…”

“Like how you wouldn’t call this breaking in?” Kakashi nudges his shoulder playfully. “Keep the window open if you’re going to smoke that.”

Obito watches as Kakashi fiddles around Genma’s open closet. “You don’t want any?” he asks, an eyebrow quirked in surprise. The entire purpose of inviting Kakashi over is to mess with Genma, and he had planned to hotbox with the younger in the class president’s unnecessarily large closet.

Kakashi shakes his head, pulling out one of Genma’s sweaters and trying it on. “I’m good. I… think I need to lay off for a little while.”

Obito hears the hesitation in his words but decides not to pry further, nodding in understanding instead. He reminds himself that he and Kakashi don’t know each other that well yet, that he has no right to go prying into his business just like Kakashi has no right to pry into his own. He purses his lips a bit. Last week was an exception.

He considers it for a moment before shoving Genma’s weed back under his mattress. He flops onto the bed and pulls out his box of cigarettes instead, placing one in between his teeth and searching for his lighter.

Kakashi places one of Genma’s beanies on his head, observing himself through the mirror. “So how did you and Genma become friends?” he suddenly asks, curiosity evident in his tone.

Obito finally lights his cigarette, lying back against Genma’s cushions. “I’m not his friend,” he deadpans as he blows out a billow of smoke.

Kakashi turns around, giving Obito an amused look. “Nothing to be shy about.”

Obito rolls his eyes at the familiar phrase. “We were at a party and he offered me a drink. It was my first time. I had way too much and threw up on his shirt.”

Kakashi bursts out laughing. “What a loser.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Obito says with no real malice. “He threatened me, so I punched him the face. Somehow that earned his respect.”

Kakashi moves and sits on the bed next to him, crossing one leg over the other. “Sounds like you’re the one befriending the punks you beat up.”

“I’m not his friend. I’m not yours either,” Obito replies, nudging the younger’s back with his foot. He grimaces a bit at how serious he had sounded, and he wonders briefly if he might have offended the other. He didn’t want to seem too touchy…or too clingy…or too…whatever. _Maybe I’m overthinking things,_ Obito thinks to himself, suddenly feeling himself flush again.

Kakashi pushes his foot away. “I’d say we’re friends. I mean I know it’s only been a week, but we’re practically best friends. I’ll even make you a friendship bracelet.” 

Obito does not want to admit how much the younger’s words please him. Or the amount of relief he feels from the reassurance. He was overthinking it. Kakashi is a friend. He is glad that the doubt he harbored had been fixed as quickly as it had. _But still_ , he reminds himself. They aren’t _that_ close yet.

Obito grins at him before blowing some smoke into his face. Kakashi flinches back. “Make sure it’s purple. That’s my favorite color,” Obito says sarcastically.

Kakashi snorts, opening his mouth to say something when the door suddenly opens. Both boys look up, catching sight of a furious-looking Genma.

“What the hell is _he_ doing here?” Genma sneers, tossing his book bag into the corner of his room. “Scratch that. How the hell do you keep getting into my fucking house?”

Obito stares at Genma, a bored expression on his face. “It’s not hard,” Obito answers. “And I invited him over.”

Genma huffs, slamming the door shut behind him. “You can’t just invite a buddy and break into someone’s room.”

“ _Oh_ , but I did.” Genma crosses over and pulls the cigarette out of Obito’s hands, snuffing it in the ash tray by his bed. “Dude, what the _fuck?”_

“Get off my bed, you fuckers,” Genma commands, pushing at Obito’s legs and glaring at Kakashi.

Kakashi seems startled by the quick exchange, but he obeys, standing up with his hands on his hips. “You have a nice place, Genma. Class president. I’m impressed.”

Genma gives him a look of bewilderment. “Are those my fucking clothes?”

Kakashi glances down at the sweater he has on. “You have nice clothes, too.” Obito laughs.

Genma lets out a groan, sounding almost as if the life is being sucked right out of him. “Can you two kindly get the fuck out of here? I don’t want to deal with this right now.” He glances over at his open window. “I should get a lock for that thing,” he mutters to himself.

Obito gets off Genma’s bed, moving to lean against the wall. “Are you busy or something, Shiranui?”

Genma sends Obito a glare. _“Yes,_ actually. I have a lot of work I have to do because our class is a fucking mess.” He pauses. “Unless you guys want to take care of some trivial paperwork for me. It’d help a lot, actually, and then I won’t call the cops on you guys.”

Obito glances over at Kakashi for a moment, who only shrugs. Obito clicks his tongue. “Yeah, fuck that.”

“Then _leave.”_

Obito pulls out another cigarette. “Nah.”

Silence fills the room, and Kakashi looks between Obito and Genma, still seemingly confused by the entire exchange. The class president and the school delinquent. An odd pair, indeed.

Genma huffs, rubbing a hand over his face. “I should call the fucking cops. Whatever.” He turns to leave the room. “Don’t touch anymore of my stuff,” he says, pointedly yanking the beanie off of Kakashi’s head. “There’s some leftover pizza in my fridge downstairs if you cunts want any.” He slams the door shut behind him.

Kakashi glances over at Obito, watching as the latter blows out a cloud of smoke. “I think he likes me.”

Obito smirks. “Make sure his bracelet’s pink.” 

Kakashi smiles a little. “So how’s Izumi?” he suddenly asks, sitting back down on Genma’s bed and watching as Obito moves to do the same.

“She’s good,” Obito answers between his cigarette. He hesitates for a moment, thinking about his father again, who had returned on Sunday night carrying a lottery ticket that he let Izumi fill out. The fucker had nothing else of actual value with him, like the food Obito had demanded, but the look of excitement on his sister’s face was honestly the thing that broke Obito’s heart. She loves their dad no matter how terribly he treats them. She loves their mom in the same fashion. She loves them all. He swallows. “Good.”

Kakashi rolls his eyes. “There you go again.”

Obito glances at him. “What?”

“Aloof,” Kakashi mutters. “There’s more to it, isn’t there?”

Obito stares dumbfoundedly at the younger before shaking his head. _We’re not close enough,_ he reminds himself again. “I’m not being aloof. She’s fine, dude. Bullies are as good as dead.”

“It’s more than just your sister then,” Kakashi comments, but it sounds more as if he’s talking to himself. Obito doesn’t know how to reply, rather he doesn’t _want_ to reply, and the two of them sit in silence for a few more moments until Kakashi decides to speak again. “You know, I have a younger brother,” he says, but there’s a distant look in his eyes, as if he’s remembering something from the past.

Obito looks at him in interest, exhaling a flume of smoke. “How old is he?”

“Just a year younger than us,” Kakashi replies, still staring at the wall ahead.

“Is he just as insane as you?” Obito asks somewhat jokingly, though he admits he is a bit curious about Kakashi’s younger sibling. He realizes lamely that he doesn’t actually know much about Kakashi’s personal life at all. Not that Kakashi knows everything about Obito, either, but the fact that he has seen his relationship with Izumi already speaks levels. Most people at school don’t even know Obito has a little sister. Genma knows, but he doesn’t even know the girl’s name.

Kakashi finally tears his gaze away from the wall to give Obito an annoyed look. “He’s pretty normal. Gets good grades and mostly stays out of trouble. At least, he was.” Obito stares at him questioningly. “That is – I mean – back when we were still going to the same school. I don’t know how he acts now,” Kakashi adds, shaking his head. “Forget it, actually. It’s not important.”

Obito frowns, confused with Kakashi’s sudden change of attitude. “Is something wrong?” he finally asks, concerned when Kakashi suddenly seems more distant than before. It really does feel as if Obito doesn’t know anything about Kakashi at all.

Kakashi looks frustrated for a moment, as if something is bothering him before the younger quickly shakes his head again. “Forget it.”

Obito can’t help but feel a little annoyed with the answer, but he nods. _They don’t know each other that well,_ he tells himself again. He has no right to pry.

But…Obito finds that he really does want to get to know Kakashi more. He at least wants to try.

“Genma is throwing a party this Friday,” Obito suddenly says, catching Kakashi’s attention, the younger glancing back up at him with a look of curiosity. “Want to go?” Obito thinks that the party would be a good opportunity to get to know Kakashi a little better. He doesn’t need to know about Kakashi’s brother, anything about the younger is good enough.

Kakashi looks interested for a moment before he looks down again. “I’m not good with parties,” he says, but there’s a trace of longing in his voice.

Obito decides that it’s enough. “That’s fine. We can just crash for coke and booze, ditch and enjoy ourselves literally anywhere else.” He waves it off as if it’s no big deal. “It’ll be fun, dude.” Kakashi still doesn’t seem convinced. “I’ll be by your side every step of the way.”

Kakashi blinks, staring at Obito with his eyebrows raised. Obito is actually caught off guard by how strong their eye contact is for that moment, and he quickly looks away, his cheeks slightly warm. For a moment, he feels foolish, too eager as he blows out another cloud of smoke. He’s probably scared Kakashi off somehow, someway, whatever friendship they have between them wearing thin with every second. But then he hears Kakashi laugh, a soft but genuine one, one that sounds like little bells in Obito’s ears.

“Thank you,” Kakashi says, and when Obito looks up, he’s surprised to find that Kakashi’s cheeks are dusted, too. Then he says something that Obito hasn’t heard from...anyone...in quite a while. “I’m counting on you, Obito.”

Obito chokes on some smoke, coughing out violently as the cigarette falls from his hands. Kakashi’s eyes widen as he pats the older’s back, watching as he struggles to regain his breath. Obito shakes his head, unable to hide the flames on his face as he quickly grabs the discarded cigarette and dispenses it in Genma’s ash tray.

“Your hand,” Obito suddenly comments, and Kakashi glances down at the mentioned appendage. “We never wrapped it.” He’s still clearing his throat, unable to look at Kakashi as he walks over to one of Genma’s drawers, searching for a first aid kid. “Sorry about that.”

“Oh, right,” Kakashi utters from behind Obito, and the older closes his eyes to calm himself down. Obito does not say anything back, only shuffles through Genma’s things until he finds what he’s looking for, pulling the kit out and searching through it for some bandages and a disinfectant. “Thanks…again,” he hears Kakashi say, and Obito really thinks that jumping out the window is the only way to get rid of his embarrassment.

-

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Obito murmurs under his breath as he stops his car by his driveway. Outside their garage stands his father’s shiny new car, out in the open and unguarded. It takes up all of the space on their tiny driveway, forcing Obito to park by the curb. The student lets out a series of curses as he heads to the front door, dreading the idea of having to see his father’s smiling face again.

He glances over his shoulder briefly as he unlocks the door, spotting their neighbors from across the street, peeking through their blinds. They quickly disappear as soon as Obito makes eye contact with them, and Obito lets out an aggravated sigh. He forces his door open and walks in, making mental bets to himself as to when his father’s stupid new car is going to get stolen.

Izumi immediately greets him at the door. “Look what dad got me!” she says happily, presenting herself to Obito with a twirl. Obito’s eyebrows rise as he watches her spin, her new dress filled with ruffles creating a small breeze. The dress is a baby pink color, outlined in floral lace.

Obito hums. “Looks good, Izumi,” he says, and although he does genuinely thinks she looks pretty in the dress, his tone comes out disinterested. He’s distracted, eyes tracing the living room for their father.

Izumi huffs. “At least _pretend_ you like it,” she whines with a roll of her eyes, hands planted on her hips.

Obito laughs a bit at her attitude, ruffling her hair affectionately. “Sorry. I’m just a bit… distracted.” He then realizes something. He isn’t shivering. His hands aren’t freezing as they brush through Izumi’s hair. “The heater’s working?” he asks, but it sounds a bit more like a statement.

Izumi’s eyes lighten up as she nods. “Yeah! Dad called someone in to finally fix it!” She twirls around again, spreading her arms out as if embracing the warmth. “I can feel my legs and arms and _everything_ again!”

Obito smiles along with her, although it feels a bit forced on his own lips. He feels a bit of relief, glad that their father finally did _something_ right, but he still can’t help but feel suspicious of this sudden turn of luck. The man had spent so many years ignoring their problems, letting them dust to the side and collect debt, plunging their small family into the lowest denominator.

No matter how hard Obito tries to give his father the benefit of the doubt, he just can’t. Obito simply cannot trust that man.

“Where is he, Izumi?” Obito asks his little sister as he walks through the living room. “I need to talk to him.”

“He’s out in the backyard,” Izumi answers. “He said he was going to do some landscaping or something. You should find him out there.” She hums a little tune to herself as she goes back to watch TV on the couch.

“Thanks,” Obito mutters, heading towards the backyard as Izumi directed. He feels a bit dread begin to stir again, but he wills himself to stay as calm as possible for Izumi’s sake. The girl hated hearing her family fight. Back during the years leading up to their parents’ divorce, the fights were endless. Izumi would cry night after night, sometimes begging Obito to stay with her as she tried her best to sleep through the screams of their hysterical parents. Now, between him and his father, Obito knows he has to remain civil for her sake. He can’t let her worry like that again. He can’t bear to see her cry.

Obito steps out into the backyard, catching sight of his father bent over one of the abandoned flowerbeds, methodically pulling out weeds. He swallows, thinking again of Izumi and deciding that it is best to approach his father as neutrally as possible. Neither hostile nor friendly. He still does not trust the man or his intentions.

“What are you doing?” Obito asks once he’s standing directly behind his father.

The man stops working, wiping his gloves together to rid them of dirt as he slowly gets up. He turns to look at Obito, that same old serene smile on his face. “Welcome back, Obito,” he says, removing his gloves and nodding his head in greeting. “I’m fixing up the backyard. I know it’s winter time, but I’m hoping to plant a tree here.”

Obito frowns in confusion. “Okay… but why?” he questions next. His father had never cared for gardening before. That was their mother’s thing. She was the one that tended to the gardens, always planting new plants, finding new ones. Their house was once decorated with plants in every corner. Now they have nothing.

“Oh, I decided that our house needed a little change,” his father answers cheerfully, gesturing around the backyard. “Not just the inside, but the outside, too. I think the three of us could all use a little change in our lives.”

Obito immediately thinks about the car in the driveway, but he holds back any urges to retort about it. He has to stay civil. He can’t let his sister hear them fighting.

“Why are you doing this?” Obito ask again, and when his father gives him a look of question, he continues, “Why are you suddenly… helping us? You got someone to fix the heater, you bought Izumi a new dress, you’re clearing the backyard… You were gone for almost a month… why…?” Obito clenches his fists, suddenly feeling frustrated with his own confusion. Nothing makes sense. After all these years, everyday wondering why his father had abandoned him and suddenly the man is treating them…kind of well? Or at least, it seems like the beginning of something new. Obito isn’t sure whether he should look forward to these “changes” his father speaks of or fear them.

“Oh, Obito,” his father says, as if sensing Obito’s anxious thoughts. “I love our family. I’ve been working so hard lately and reflecting on our lives. My life. What I’ve been doing right and what I’ve been doing wrong.”

Obito frowns, unsure of where his father is going. “And?” he questions, urging the man to continue.

His father smiles, pulling his gardening gloves back on. “I’ve decided to change as well. You were right, Obito,” he finishes, turning back around to continue pulling the weeds from the ground. “I need to start taking my job seriously as the father of this household.” He glances over his shoulder, sending Obito that same peaceful smile, but something about it still throws Obito off. “I’ve decided to change. Things around here are going to change for the better.” The man then pulls out a particularly overgrown weed, its roots spurting dirt into the air.

Obito continues to stand there in silence, watching as his father pulls more and more weeds from the ground. He isn’t sure what to say, or if he should even say anything. His father’s words swirl around his head like a chant, but Obito can’t seem to properly comprehend him. They sound too good to be true. He doesn’t want to be hopeful, he doesn’t want to _believe_ his father’s words. No matter what, he just can’t trust that man. He just can’t.

“Oh, and Obito,” his father suddenly says, breaking Obito out of his whirlpool of thoughts. Obito glances up at him in question. “Check your room. There’s something in there waiting for you.”

Obito stands there for a few more moments, brows pulled together in a frown. He grits his teeth, unable to help his thoughts of distrust and suspicion. It’s wrong, something’s wrong, there’s just _something_ wrong, there has to be. Even as his feet take him back inside, even as he feels the comforting heat of a working heater, even as he steps into his bedroom, and even as he sees the small box sitting on his bed, Obito cannot help but feel as if something is wrong.

Obito holds the box in his hands, silent as he stares down at its contents.

 _I don’t trust him,_ he thinks, even as he holds his father’s gift – a brand new phone – in his hand, _and I never will._

-

Obito can tell by the way Kakashi fidgets in his seat that there is something bothering the younger student. It’s Friday, and they’re both sitting in Obito’s car for lunch, the older male indulging himself in a cigarette, tapping the ashes out the window. Kakashi keeps moving, adjusting himself in the seat, his sandwich untouched on the console.

“What’s wrong?” Obito decides to ask as he brings the cigarette back to his lips. He thinks about it for a moment. “Is this about the party later?”

Kakashi glances up at him, surprised. “Oh, no. I actually forgot about that,” he murmurs truthfully.

Obito raises an eyebrow. “Are you still going?”

“…I can.” His voice is hesitant. “You’re still going, right?”

“Of course,” Obito reassures him with a smile. In all honesty, Obito didn’t actually care about whether or not they went to the party. He’s okay with hanging out with the younger normally. “If you don’t want to go, I won’t go either.” Puffs of smoke escape his lips as he speaks. “Don’t worry. I’m not that pressed about it.”

“I’ll go,” Kakashi tells him, and when Obito looks at him the younger gives him a small smile. “I think it’ll be good for me. There’s been a lot on my mind lately.”

Obito eyes Kakashi as he takes another drag. _Should I ask?_ “What’s up?” he decides to ask, hoping that maybe this time, Kakashi would be willing to talk a bit more. _Is it about his brother? Did something happen?_

Kakashi holds a finger up to his teeth, lightly gnawing down on his nail before he pauses. He turns to look at Obito again for a few seconds, and Obito begins to feel uncomfortable under his stare. “Your eye,” he says suddenly, and Obito blinks, “it’s healed.”

Obito pauses. That isn’t what he expected to hear. He knows the younger is trying to change the subject, and after staring at him for a little longer, he decides to let it go. “Uh, yeah.” He glances up at the rearview mirror for a second, tracing underneath his eye with a finger. “Finally, I guess.”

Kakashi is smiling. “I’m so used to you looking so ugly that I was surprised for a second,” he teases.

Obito rolls his eyes. “You look about as ugly as you usually do,” he retorts, though he doesn’t mean it. Kakashi’s lip had healed as well, and without all the bruises, the younger actually has a rather youthful face. It surprises Obito now that he thinks about it.

“Well that’s not nice,” Kakashi says. “And I was just about to call you attractive, too.”

Obito snorts, bringing his cigarette up to his lips. “I don’t need you to tell me that.”

“Wow, what a conceited asshole,” the younger quips with no real malice. “I take it all back. You’re still ugly and you’ll always be ugly. Bitch.”

Obito lets out a laugh. “And you’re not as cute as Genma thinks.”

That seems to catch Kakashi’s attention. “Genma thinks I’m cute?”

Obito takes one last hit from his cigarette before tossing it out the window. “Why?” he questions teasingly. “You interested?”

“A little,” Kakashi admits to Obito’s surprise. “But that’s probably because I’m a bit of a gold digger.”

The older student laughs again, always finding enjoyment in Kakashi’s stupid jokes. “Genma’s easy. A little feisty but easy to control once you give him what he wants.”

Kakashi’s eyes widen in surprise and Obito looks at him in confusion before he realizes what he said. _Oh shit,_ Obito thinks, but before he can take back what he said Kakashi is shouting, “Holy shit!” Kakashi has the smuggest grin on his face yet again, and Obito feels the urge to punch him. “Holy shit! You banged him, didn’t you?”

“I didn’t say that—”

“You totally did!” Kakashi claps his hands together, laughter erupting from stomach. “I knew it! Holy shit, I knew it!”

Obito feels his cheeks redden as he moves to take a smoke before realizing that he had thrown his cigarette away. _Damn._ “Fuck off,” he mutters, attempting to hide his blush by propping his chin on the steering wheel.

“When?” Kakashi urges, poking Obito’s shoulder. “When? When? When?”

Obito swats Kakashi's hand away, embarrassed as memories of his younger self came back to his mind. “I don’t know? Last year?” He shivers at the memory. “We were drunk. Please don’t ask any more questions.”

“Okay,” Kakashi says with a nod. There’s silence for a moment before he starts laughing again, much to Obito’s annoyance.

“Fuck off.”

_“No way.”_

“Get out of my car,” Obito utters over Kakashi’s laughter. The older student lets out a very long, very aggravated groan before lifting his head up and fixing Kakashi with a glare. “You’re a dick. You haven’t even told me about your little adventures with Nagato or whatever.”

“Because I’ve never done anything with Nagato.” Kakashi retorts. “I guess that’s one perk of being a new kid. There’s no dirt on me.”

“Tell me your first,” Obito demands, sitting up a little straighter. “I won’t know him anyways, you have nothing to lose.” Kakashi rolls his eyes. “Come on!” Obito practically whines, hand slipping from his wheel and accidentally honking the horn on the car. Kakashi laughs again. “You’ve heard half of my stories, tell me yours!”

Kakashi stares at Obito for a moment before letting out a sigh. “I had a boyfriend,” he finally admits, and Obito’s eyebrows rise in interest. “He graduated last year, though. But before he left we got high as shit and had the best sex ever.” A smirk spreads across the younger’s face.

Obito lets out a lighthearted laugh. “You like older guys?”

“Love them.”

 _“Creep,”_ Obito taunts before he glances at his phone. He pauses for a moment. Every time he pulls out his phone now, his new phone, he thinks about his father. The student shakes his head to rid himself of those thoughts. “Lunch is almost over, by the way. We should probably head back inside.”

Kakashi nods his head in agreement. “When are we heading to Genma’s?” he suddenly asks as they step out of the car and begin heading towards the school. There’s another smug look on his face when he mentions the president’s name, but Obito decides to ignore it, instead considering the question.

He has things to do later, namely his laundry and maybe homework if he has the motivation later (which he won’t). Obito thinks about Izumi briefly, then his father, and he’s torn between the idea of actually going home or just finding somewhere to bum around with Kakashi until Genma’s party starts. He frowns, thinking about how he doesn’t want to leave Izumi home alone with their father for too long. He might as well spend some time with her before he leaves for the night. “I’ll just pick you up when I feel like going,” Obito finally answers in a dismissive tone, slinging an arm over the younger’s shoulders. “Don’t know when that’ll be, so be ready whenever.”

Kakashi huffs. “That isn’t very specific.”

Obito shrugs his shoulders. “Doesn’t matter when we show up anyways. I’ll steal us some drinks and we can head out and get fucked up somewhere else. Get our minds off our shitty lives.” He says it jokingly, but there’s hints of truth to his words. His father lingers in his mind yet again, and Obito silently hopes that Genma delivers at his party.

Kakashi seems to share his sentiment. “Sounds like my kind of night.”

-

Genma throws awfully trashy parties, a stark contrast to his position as their class president. At least, that’s the first thing Kakashi thinks when he and Obito approach the large house that is filled to the brim with stoners and future dropouts. He can already smell that familiar, lingering scent of smoke and alcohol even before Obito opens the door to Genma’s home.

At the doorstep, Kakashi finds that he doesn’t really want to go in. Something about walking into the steamy house messes with Kakashi’s nerves. But he follows Obito inside anyways, staying relatively close to the older student as to not get lost in the insurmountable crowd of dancing teenagers and young adults. Kakashi is surprised to see that he can recognize many of the students from school, though many of the other attendees remain nameless.

“I know,” Obito remarks, as if hearing Kakashi’s thoughts. “Half of these assholes act all high and mighty at school, but as soon as they come to a place like this—” He gestures to a table in the corner where a girl is snorting lines of cocaine through a roll, her friend holding her hair back as she laughs at nothing in particular, “—they all turn into fucking animals.”

Kakashi glances to another corner, where a fairly large group of students appear to be playing a game of spin-the-bottle. The bottle stops on one of the girls, who Kakashi immediately recognizes as Fuuka as the mentioned female launches herself at another girl across the circle. The corner erupts with whistles and hollers as the two girls hungrily kiss one another. “I see,” Kakashi mumbles as he averts his gaze, suddenly feeling more and more uncomfortable as Obito leads him further into the party. _Calm down._ He flinches.

Every inch of the room smells like sweat and weed, lust and desire coating the air with its thick musk. The rumbles of the bass and the pounding of the speakers seem to make the walls shift all around him. Kakashi suddenly grabs onto Obito’s arm, stumbling over his own feet as he attempts to make sense of his surroundings.

Obito stops in his tracks, his face immediately morphing into that of concern upon seeing Kakashi’s state. “You okay?” he yells over the music, and Kakashi has to stare at his lips to understand what he is saying.

Kakashi’s grip on the older student’s arm tightens for a fraction of a second before he abruptly lets go, the former stepping backwards and leaning against a nearby wall. He catches sight of an eerily familiar student sitting in a couch across the dark room. It takes a few rounds of flashing lights before Kakashi finally recognizes the figure as Iruka, the mentioned student casually enjoying a can of beer. He looks different, relaxed in his position but imposing all the same. Kakashi feels his blood go cold as Iruka meets his gaze, the younger student immediately smiling, but there’s something unsettling about the his dark eyes.

“Kakashi?” Obito tries again, grabbing the boy’s attention once more as he stands directly in his line of sight. Kakashi blinks back up at him blearily. “You don’t look so good…”

“I’m fine,” Kakashi lies, pushing Obito back as he immediately begins to walk somewhere else, anywhere else away from the figure on the couch. “I need a bathroom…”

Obito follows him, pulling on his shoulder and gesturing towards a set of stairs. “It’s up there,” he yells over the music again. “I’ll come with you.”

Kakashi shakes his head, pushing Obito away. “I’ll be fine,” he insists as he heads for the stairs, one hand on the wall to keep himself from losing his sense of direction. “You go get what we came here for so we can get the _fuck_ out of here.” When Obito gives him a look of worry, Kakashi sends him a small but reassuring smile. “I’ll be fine, I promise.”

Obito looks as if he wants to protest, but after a moment, he nods. “I’ll meet you outside?” he asks, and Kakashi gives him his own nod in return. The older student stands there for a few more seconds, giving Kakashi one last look before heading into the crowd, disappearing among dancing bodies and shouts of laughter. Kakashi watches him leave in silence, finding it more and more difficult to keep track of the individuals in the room as they all blend into clumps of black. Each flash of light morphs them into different shapes and formations, and the student immediately looks away, training his gaze on the stairs ahead.

Kakashi jumps a little when he hears cheers behind him, and he spares a single look to see that another round of spin-the-bottle is being played. He shakes his head to rid himself of the distraction, placing one foot on the staircase but nearly tripping when his foot comes into contact with nothing. Kakashi grits his teeth, reaching out and grabbing onto the railing, supporting himself as he slowly but surely walks up the seemingly shifting stairs.

Kakashi’s eyes trail to the ceiling, where colorful laser lights display different shapes. They pull him into a momentary trance until he reaches the top. He opens the first door he sees, immediately recognizing it as Genma’s room. The thought of hiding out in there crosses his mind briefly until he hears a very sensual moan from the class president’s bed and catches the sight of ruffling bed sheets. Kakashi immediately shuts the door, trudging towards the opposite end of the hall in search for the bathroom.

His hand drags along the wall beside him, his entire body filling with goosebumps as he recalls just how many people had bumped into him while he made his way through the crowd down there, how many breaths were exhaled that touched his skin. For a moment, the floor beneath him seems to shift once more, and he trips forward, running into some girl’s back.

“Sorry,” he utters as the girl sends him a disgusted look. She tosses her nose into the air, stomping past him and towards the stairs. With another flash of light, she vanishes into the sea below them. Kakashi finds it rather dizzying as he gazes over the edge, watching as curtains of black waved with rippling movements.

He feels a whisper against his ear and he flinches away, spinning around in search of the culprit. A chill comes down his spine when he sees no one, not the girl, or the couple that had taken over Genma’s room. Kakashi shakes his head, willing himself to breathe deeply as he continues down the hall.

He reaches the door at the end of the hallway, roughly pushing it open.

Kakashi’s met with the sight of a girl and a boy, both half naked as they make out against the sink. Before Kakashi can say anything, the whisper comes again, more aggressively this time, sending the hairs on the back of his neck upwards. “Get the fuck out,” he growls at the air, but his voice is strained with fatigue, and the whispers scratch at his ears.

The couple pulls apart in surprise, and the girl looks as if she’s about to protest until she notices how pale Kakashi looks. “Whoa, are you okay?”

Kakashi opens his mouth to speak until pain flares in his temples, his fingers reaching up to dig into his hair, pulling at the ends as all the sounds around him merge into a single, sharp ring. “I said, get out!” Kakashi practically screams this time, unable to tolerate any more of the swarming darkness and morphing figures and flashing lights and obnoxious laughter and the ringing, that god awful ringing. The couple immediately obeys, scurrying out of the bathroom with their shirts in their hands.

Kakashi slams the door shut behind them, falling to his knees by the toilet as he hunches over the bowl. A minute goes by as he simply stares at the clear water, the faint sound of music rumbling the floor beneath him.

_They’re out to get you._

Kakashi’s heart skips a beat when he hears someone knock at the door.

_Someone’s out there._

He squeezes his eyes shut as he begins to feel the bile rise in his throat.

_Found you._

-

Once he finds them, it doesn’t take Obito longer than five minutes to stuff a bag with beer and edibles. As he leaves the kitchen he catches sight of an untouched bag of shrooms, eyes widening briefly before he takes it, shoving it into the pocket of his parka to save for a rainy day. Obito exits the kitchen and returns to where the rest of the party is, eyes tracing over what faces he can make out for Kakashi’s. He’s just about to call out for the younger when he feels a hand on his shoulder.

Obito turns around and comes face to face with Genma, the younger student gesturing up towards the stairs. “You’re looking for Kakashi, right?”

Obito nods, immediately glancing up towards the second floor through the darkness. He finds the flashy laser lights annoying, a scowl appearing on his face.

“You should hurry,” Genma yells over the music, and Obito eyes him questioningly. “I saw Hidan heading up there.” There’s a disgusted look on the class president’s face as he takes a sip from his cup. “I’m tired of that jackass showing up, to be honest. Last time Hidan was here, I caught him with Fuuka. Sick fucker slipped her some ketamine and was about to rape her in my fucking bed.” Genma scoffs. “I saw Kakashi go up there maybe ten minutes ago. He hasn’t come back down since.” He takes another sip. “Neither has Hidan.”

Obito inhales sharply, nodding his head in thanks before heading for the stairs, eyebrows pulled into a frown. _Kakashi could handle himself,_ Obito knew, but how the younger had appeared before they separated left room for worry. Kakashi wasn’t himself, and Hidan is the type of scum to mess with anyone he deems vulnerable enough. Obito recalls the day Hidan had harassed him in gym class years ago. Back then, news about his parents’ divorce had just gotten out and spread across the town, of course landing on Hidan’s doorstep. The asshole mocked Obito all throughout gym class, but as soon as class was over, Obito had cornered him in the locker room. It took three teachers to tear Obito away.

He’s immediately pulled out of his thoughts when he hears a loud crash from upstairs. Obito isn’t the only one who hears it apparently, as half of the party seems to stop to look up, too. Obito briefly meets eyes with Genma, the two exchanging looks of shock before Obito drops the bag of beer and rushes up the stairs.

He nearly trips on his way up, bracing himself against the railing as he calls out Kakashi’s name, multiple scenarios running through his head. His fears turn into utter surprise when he sees Hidan on the ground, the male struggling to get out of Kakashi’s grasp as the latter straddles him, holding him in place by the neck.

He was not prepared to see this. “Kakashi!” Obito exclaims, startled when he sees how enraged the younger student looks. Even when they were fighting weeks ago, Kakashi hadn’t looked like _that._ The look in his eyes is almost feral, and it catches Obito by surprise.

Kakashi doesn’t seem to hear him. Hidan, however, looks up, wide eyes meeting Obito’s. “Obito! _Obito!”_ he screams, but he sounds winded as Kakashi’s grip on his neck seems to temporarily tighten. “Help me! Get this _fucker_ off of me!”

Obito stands frozen, unable to move as he watches the scene before him. A part of him wants Kakashi to continue, to give the asshole a taste of his own medicine, but the more sensible part of him tells him to intervene. There is something chillingly dangerous about the look in Kakashi’s eyes, something that tells Obito that he shouldn’t let this go on further. But he isn’t sure how to approach it. “Kakashi,” Obito tries once more, taking another step forward. “Let him go.”

“Leave me alone,” Kakashi utters to no one in particular, and Obito is startled to find that the boy is crying. “Leave me alone, _just leave me alone—”_

Hidan lets out another scream, one that pierces Obito’s ears, and he’s sure that the party below them can hear it, too. “Get him _off!_ He’s – he’s _choking_ me! _Fuck! Obito!”_

“Stop it, _stop, stop!”_ Kakashi cries, and this time Obito can see how Kakashi’s fingers tighten, and for a moment Obito feels too afraid to move. He doesn’t know what to do – can he do anything? He’s never seen Kakashi like this before, he’s never seen him so… _out of it._

“I can’t breathe—” Hidan chokes out, voice strained as his face darkens, fingers tearing at Kakashi’s hands. Obito’s heart starts to pick up in genuine fear. “I can’t breathe – _he’s going to kill me,_ h-he—”

“Kakashi!” Obito yells this time, waking up from his trance as he scrambles over and uses his weight to knock the younger off of the other male. Kakashi lets out a sharp cry as they roll to the ground, Obito keeping him in place by the shoulders. Obito tries to catch Kakashi’s eyes, but they seem so distant and far away, face marked with tears.

Hidan gasps for air, hunched over and heaving hysterically as he crawls and collapses against the opposite wall. “He’s fucking _crazy,”_ he rasps, hands on his own neck in a protective manner. Obito grabs onto Kakashi’s arm, holding it down onto the ground when the younger tries to reach for Hidan again. _“Crazy._ He tried to fucking kill me…he tried to—”

Obito sends Hidan a furious glare, the latter immediately swallowing his words. “Get out of here,” he growls, but just as he does Kakashi finally struggles free of Obito’s grasp. Obito grabs onto his arms before he can surge at Hidan again. _“Leave!”_

Hidan’s eyes widen with fear before he runs back down the stairs, a stream of curses following him down into the darkness. Obito uses all of his strength to pull Kakashi back against him, heart beating erratically in his chest as he continues to call the younger’s name, to snap him out of whatever the hell is going on. He’s afraid, _Obito is actually afraid_ as he attempts to calm Kakashi’s cries, images of Hidan on the ground, how his face had purpled burned into his mind. _He’s going to kill me, he’s going to kill me,_ Hidan’s voice cries like a broken record, _he’s going to kill me…_

“He’s here – he’s here—” Obito hears Kakashi say in between sobs, and he looks down at the younger in confusion. “He’s here – he’s here for me. He’s going to get me – he’s going to—” Obito catches sight of Kakashi’s bandaged hand, seeing that it had mostly come off, the wounds reopening as Kakashi thrashed around.

A thought suddenly clicks in Obito’s mind. _“I’m here,”_ Obito breathes out despite his fear, and his hands move to hold Kakashi’s face in place, forcing the younger to look him in the eyes. Kakashi continues to squirm, attempting to shake his head despite Obito’s hands. _“I’m with you,”_ Obito repeats, louder this time, and Kakashi stops moving, eyes slowly coming back into focus, and Obito’s heart briefly skips a beat when they stare directly into each other’s eyes. _“Kakashi.”_

Kakashi blinks, his entire body relaxing under Obito’s. Hours seem to pass before he speaks again. “Obito,” he whispers, and for a moment, things seem to freeze. The music seems to stop. The air seems to settle. “Obito,” Kakashi says again before he pushes the older away, and this time Obito lets him go, a sigh of relief exiting the latter’s lips.

Kakashi sits up, bringing his knees up to his chest as he visibly shivers. They look up at each other once more before Kakashi forces his gaze away, tears brimming his eyes. “We need to leave,” he says in a hushed voice. “I need to leave. This is a nightmare – I can’t…I can’t—” Obito places a hand on his shoulder, eyes filled with concern as he observes the younger’s face.

“Let’s go,” Obito murmurs in solemn agreement, pulling Kakashi up to his feet. “I shouldn’t have brought you here.” His heart is beginning to settle back down, gradually, but he swallows as Hidan’s face appears in his mind again, a chill going down his spine.

“Obito,” Kakashi breathes, reaching out and gripping his arm like a lifeline. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry...” He bites his lips, as if contemplating his next words.

“There’s nothing to apologize about,” Obito utters reassuringly before the other can say anymore. Kakashi’s nails dig into his arm, but he does not protest, only allows the younger to hold on as he directs them down the stairs. His mind is still spinning from the scene he had just witnessed, multiple questions swarming through his head as he attempts to make sense of the situation. _What happened up there? How did they end up like that? What was Kakashi doing? What was Kakashi thinking?_

Questions continue to pile in his head until they finally leave Genma’s home, immediately greeted by the cold but fresh night air. Kakashi finally lets go, and Obito turns around to find that he finally looks… okay again.

But his eyes are filled with horror. Kakashi shakes his head as he backs away from the older male. “You saw that,” Kakashi states, panic rising in his voice as he continues to back away even as Obito steps forward in confusion. “Oh god. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, not again, I have to go—”

Obito grabs his arm before he can run again, watching Kakashi with concerned eyes. “Stop apologizing,” he says, and Kakashi stares at him almost painfully. Obito bites his lips, considering his previous questions. _Not again._ That phrase sticks itself into the crevices of Obito’s mind. A frown appears on his face before he can stop himself. “I don’t care about whatever happened in there,” he lies, as he decides that now is not the right time to corner the younger with an interrogation. “Let’s just go, dude. I’ll take you home.”

Kakashi is quiet. He stares at Obito for a moment longer before nodding his head. “Thanks,” he whispers as he begins to walk towards the street where Obito had parked his car.

Obito watches him go in silence, the same eerie feeling he had felt before returning.

_He’s going to kill me._

_He’s here – he’s here –_

_He’s going to kill me._

_Not again._

The questions run rampant in his head once more until the feeling of his phone vibrating against his leg pulls him out of his thoughts.

Obito frowns as he pulls his phone out, staring down and reading the text he had just received. It was from Izumi.

_dad isnt home. someone at window_

_pls hurry back_

_im scared_

Obito’s heart drops to his stomach.

-

_Kakashi gazes idly outside his window, watching the streets below him as businessmen and women parade around in suits and ties. The cars produce a low hum that complements the chatter among the crowd. His eyes fall onto one particular figure in the distance, and he feels a smile spread across his face. Kakashi pulls his window shut and grabs his jacket, heading downstairs to the frozen yogurt shop._

_Kakashi waves to his uncle as he passes by the cash register. “I’m going out for a bit,” he announces. His uncle merely nods, continuing to wipe the countertop with a rugged rag. Kakashi leaves the store with swift steps, merging into the current of people sweeping down the sidewalk. He takes a second to look around, searching for his friend in the sea of faces. Kakashi catches a glimpse of familiar red hair and maneuvers towards it._

_“Hey!” Kakashi loudly calls out, attracting the attention of a few other pedestrians, but he pays them no mind as he weaves through the crowd. “Nagato!”_

_Said male pauses in his tracks, turning around and greeting Kakashi with a smile of recognition. Kakashi gives him a little wave, gesturing towards a clearer area across the street. The two cross the street together, stopping by an alley. “Hey, Kakashi, long time no see,” Nagato greets the younger male once they’re alone. “How have things been?”_

_Kakashi leans back against the brick wall behind them, crossing his arms over his chest to secure some more warmth. “I transferred to a new school recently,” he answers, and Nagato gives him a look of interest. “I’m also living with my uncle now.”_

_“How are you liking it?” Nagato asks him, moving to lounge against the wall with him. “You’ve always said how much you like staying with your uncle. It must be fun.”_

_“It is,” Kakashi agrees. “He’s so much quieter and he doesn’t bother me with useless questions. It’s easier living with him than my parents.” He pauses for a moment, feeling his cheeks flush. “I… also made a friend.”_

_Nagato lets out a laugh of surprise. “How did you manage to find someone who can keep up with your shit?”_

_Kakashi laughs with him, shaking his head. “Yeah, isn’t it crazy? Most people would have blown their heads off by now.”_

_“What’s his name? And what’s he like?”_

_He glances down at his shoes as he thinks about his friend. “Obito,” Kakashi answers. He glances up in time to watch a random stranger glance at him as she passes by them. “To be honest, he’s kind of an asshole. Apparently he used to skip school all the time and get into tons of fights.”_

_“Sounds a little bit like you,” Nagato jokes, and Kakashi merely rolls his eyes._

_“But he’s a nice asshole,” he finishes, a fond smile softening his features. “He knows his boundaries and respects mine. He acts like he doesn’t give a shit about the world, but it’s obvious that he cares about a few things at least.”_

_Nagato raises an eyebrow in intrigue. “You seem rather fond of this Obito guy.”_

_Kakashi shrugs. “He’s the only person in that school so far who hasn’t treated me like I’m some sort of freak or puzzle or something to solve. I don’t know how to explain it. He feels different…” Kakashi bites his lip. “He feels…real…”_

_Nagato hums in acknowledgement, suddenly pulling out a small book from the inside of his jacket. “Does he know?” he asks as he opens the book, flipping to a page in the middle._

_Kakashi feels himself tense up at the question. “No,” he answers, moving to brush his fingers through his hair. Nagato lets out a chiding tsk, one that makes Kakashi sigh. “Fuck off. Obito doesn’t need to know. At least…not right now. We haven’t even known each other for that long.”_

_“That’s not an excuse, Kakashi. You shouldn’t hide something like this from your friend,” Nagato lectures him, and Kakashi immediately flushes._

_“I-I just don’t want him to…run off,” Kakashi finds himself admitting, as he releases a deep breath in an attempt to cool down the heat in his cheeks._

_“Run off?” Nagato echoes, suspicion in his eyes._

_“They always do,” Kakashi says softly, unable to look Nagato in the eyes. “Whenever people find out, they treat me differently. The teachers already give me special attention that I never asked for, that I never needed either. A lot of the other students already avoid me, and they don’t even know what’s wrong. The only ones that bother to look me in the eye always seem to be looking for a fight.” He purses his lips. “Just imagine how they’d all react, how Obito would react if he knew.”_

_“How can you be so sure?” Nagato questions, a doubtful expression on his face. “You said that Obito is the only person so far who hasn’t treated you in this way. Maybe he’s really different.”_

_“He has more important things in his life to worry about,” Kakashi mutters, thinking about the other male’s younger sister and how much Obito cares for her. It is obvious that she means the world to him, and judging by the ratty parka he always wears, Kakashi can tell that he isn’t exactly financially blessed. He’s sure that Obito’s personal problems would outweigh Kakashi in terms of priority. “He’d just forget about me,” he says, and his voice sounds sadder than he realizes._

_“Always the pessimist,” Nagato teases, and Kakashi lets out a huff of annoyance. “He needs to know, Kakashi,” he begins, tone low and serious, capturing the younger male’s attention. “You can’t hide from him forever. It’s better that he learns now, so that he’s at least prepared, otherwise the next time you have an episode, Obito might not be as understanding as you’d like.”_

_Kakashi bites his lip, wanting to argue but knowing that he cannot. “I don’t want him to see me through my issues. I want him to see me for who I am.”_

_“Don’t be so afraid of things like that,” Nagato says, turning a page in his book before gazing into Kakashi’s eyes. “Learn to trust someone else for once.”_

_Kakashi stares back at Nagato, a pained look in his eyes. “I really don’t want him to leave me,” he whispers._

_Nagato gives him a small smile. “If he truly cares about you, he won’t.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From this point on, things will be getting much darker :)


	5. Chapter 5

Kakashi is abruptly torn from his thoughts as he hears the car door slam. He glances up from his place in the passenger seat, attempting to sort out his surroundings as he catches a glimpse of Obito’s retreating back. He rubs at his eyes, struggling to recognize the house in front of him. _Obito’s house,_ Kakashi thinks, and he slowly unbuckles his seatbelt.

He remembers now. Obito had said something about his little sister being in danger and how he had to go check on her immediately. Kakashi still feels relatively light-headed, and every movement he makes feels oddly magnified. He has trouble sorting out his memories from his thoughts as he exits the car, eyes never leaving the tiny home in front of him.

Obito had already disappeared into his house, leaving Kakashi alone outside. Kakashi suddenly feels the hairs on the back of his neck stand up and he whips around, eyes frantically scanning the streets in search of any threats. His gaze immediately lands on a pair of eyes peeking through the blinds of a house right across the street, but even as Kakashi stares back, the eyes never look away.

Kakashi squints, finding something about those eyes familiar. _Iruka,_ the thought comes to his mind, and Kakashi’s heart skips a beat for a fraction of a second before he feels hands wrap over his mouth. Kakashi’s eyes widen as he immediately begins to struggle, screams muffled as he tries to rip the hands from his face.

Kakashi feels panic run through his veins as he kicks against his assailant, visions of his nightmares running through his mind, the eyes, the darkness, the shadows, the rings. He stamps his foot down, crushing the attacker’s own, giving him just enough time to scream out a panicked “Obito!”

His attacker immediately pushes him away, Kakashi stumbling forward and falling to the ground, but he turns his head back in time to catch a brief glance at the man. His eyes flash with confusion, unable to recognize the man as he runs off in the other direction, disappearing to somewhere behind Obito’s house. Kakashi feels his throat go dry, and he glances back at the house across the street, his blood freezing over when he sees how the pair of eyes continue to stare. Unblinking.

“Kakashi!” he hears, and he jumps, turning back around and watching as Obito rushes towards him. “Shit, what happened?”

Kakashi opens his mouth to speak but is unable to say any words, too petrified to even move.

“Kakashi?” Obito immediately crouches down, helping the younger male back onto his feet. “Are you hurt?”

“T-There’s a man,” Kakashi finally says, but his mind jumps between the man’s face and Iruka’s. “H-He attacked me—” Kakashi lets out a hiss, holding his injured hand to his chest.

Obito grabs his hand, inspecting the reopened wounds. “You got dirt all over it…” His brows pull into an expression of frustration. “Who was the man? Did you recognize him?”

Kakashi stares dumbly at his hand, eyeing the mixture of blood and dirt. His mind again jumps between Iruka and that stranger, then that stranger to Hidan, to Iruka, to all of the faces he saw at the party. “No,” Kakashi answers, his heart beating a mile a minute in his chest. “I didn’t, I’m sorry, he ran.”

“Where?” Obito demands, and when Kakashi gestures towards the back of his house, Obito immediately runs to check. Kakashi glances once more across the street, finding that those eyes that looked so much like Iruka’s are no longer there. It takes Kakashi a moment to realize that he has been shaking.

Obito returns, eyes set into an aggravated glare. “I never should have left her,” he mumbles, and he looks at Kakashi for a moment before dragging him into his house. “I should have been here.”

Kakashi swallows, allowing the older male to pull him inside the small home, immediately being greeted by the sight of a terrified Izumi.

“Are you okay?” she asks him as soon as the door closes, running up to Kakashi with fear in her eyes. “Did _he_ hurt you?”

“Izumi, did you see him?” Obito questions before Kakashi can speak. His phone is out but he looks conflicted.

“I did...but I-I don’t know who he was,” Izumi answers, tugging on the ends of her hair. Kakashi can feel himself go numb. “I didn’t get a clear look of his face. He was wearing a hood and was always crouched over. As soon as he started trying to open the back door, I hid. I was so scared, I didn’t know what to do and dad wasn’t answering his phone and—”

“Did he get in?” Obito asks her, and Kakashi moves so that he can sit on the couch, nausea rising in his stomach as he listened to the conversation. His eyes drift towards a nearby window.

“I-I don’t know, he might have. I wasn’t sure. It sounded like the door opened and I thought I heard footsteps, but then you came back. It might have scared him off.” Izumi bites her lower lip. “He’s not out there anymore, is he? Oh god, Obito, I was so scared…”

Obito sighs, heading over to the younger girl and pulling her into a comforting hug. “It’s okay,” Obito breathes into her hair, placing a soft kiss against her head. “It’s okay, I’m here now.”

A shadow suddenly sprints past the window, and Kakashi immediately jumps from his seat. _“What does he want?”_ he suddenly cries, startling both Izumi and Obito in the process. “What does he _want_ from me?”

Obito stares at him in confusion as Izumi clasps her hands over her ears, Kakashi's outburst clearly upsetting her already fragile state of mind. Obito notices her fear and ushers her back into her room. The girl disappears, leaving Obito alone with Kakashi.

“Who are you talking about?” Obito questions him, walking over to the younger male and with a concerned look in his eyes.

The torn skin on Kakashi’s hands burn. “Iruka,” Kakashi finally says, but he isn't sure, and Obito is surprised by how _afraid_ Kakashi looks. “What does he want from me?”

“Who’s _Iruka?”_ Obito asks next, head beginning to hurt with all the questions he has for the younger male. “Was…was he the man who ran?”

“No...yes...I don’t know!” Kakashi yells, frustration evident in his tone. “I don’t _fucking_ know anymore! I don’t know who I saw or what I saw, all I know is that I got fucking attacked and someone else was watching me and that someone just ran past that window and I—” Kakashi suddenly steps away, back hitting a wall behind him. “I don’t know what’s happening anymore, I don’t want to join the stupid gardening club, my hand _fucking_ hurts, and this is all just a fucking _nightmare!”_

Obito stands frozen, unsure of what to say. He takes a moment to check the windows all around the house, leaving Kakashi alone to his thoughts in the living room.

“He’s following me, he’s following me,” Kakashi whispers to himself as Iruka’s eyes, the stranger’s eyes, Hidan’s eyes, all those eyes swirl through his head. “He’s following me, he’s following me, he’s following—”

“Kakashi,” Obito says carefully once he returns, a glass of water in one hand and a first aid kit in the other. “Give me your hand.”

Kakashi doesn’t move, and the older male lets out a sigh as he gently forces Kakashi to sit back down onto the couch. He positions himself in front of the other student, taking his hand and opening the first aid kit. Kakashi watches through exhausted eyes as Obito begins to disinfect his wounds. “He’s following me,” Kakashi says again, watching as Obito frowns.

“Who are you talking about?” Obito asks him again, quieter this time, and something about his softer tone of voice gets Kakashi to relax just a little.

“Iruka,” Kakashi answers him, visibly calmer this time, and he closes his eyes as Obito begins to wrap his hand in bandages. “He was at the party...he was here...he’s always there…”

Obito looks at Kakashi for a moment as he secures the bandages. He then grabs the glass of water and forces it into Kakashi’s hands. “Who the hell is Iruka?” The name sounds familiar to him, but he can’t quite place where he last heard it.

Kakashi shakes his head. “He goes to our school. At first all he did was bother me at the bus stop to join his stupid club. Then he started following me home. He’d get on the bus with me and wouldn’t get off until my stop. He’d watch me until he couldn’t anymore, and I thought that was it.” Kakashi takes in a shaky breath as he recalls the past couple of days, where Iruka had decided to follow him home instead. “I thought that was it, but he was at the party tonight, and...I think I saw him here…”

Obito watches as the glass shakes in Kakashi’s hand, and he immediately takes it back, placing it firmly on the table beside them. “Is he the one who attacked you?”

Kakashi shakes his head again, harder this time. “No, I don’t know, I don’t know anymore.” He lets out a noise of frustration. “P-Please stop asking me questions.” Kakashi reaches forward to grab the glass again, but he accidentally knocks it over instead, water spilling onto the table and the carpeted floor. He gazes up at Obito, a mortified expression on his face.

Obito lets out a sigh. “Don’t worry about it,” he mumbles, turning to leave the room. “Stay here, I’m going to talk to Izumi.”

Kakashi watches Obito leave silently. It is not until Obito disappears behind Izumi’s door does Kakashi feel himself crumble, tears falling from his eyes and joining the puddle beneath him.

-

Obito returns to an empty living room. The only things left confirming the fact that Kakashi had been there are the first aid kit and the cup of water that had been left on its side on the table. He opens the front door and glances outside, checking for any more signs of the younger male, only finding his car untouched on the driveway and the night sky watching him through the moon.

He closes the door behind him, an empty feeling in his chest. He pulls out his phone and texts the younger about his whereabouts, but after almost ten minutes of no response, Obito gives up.

Then he thinks about his father.

Why didn’t he answer Izumi’s call?

His fists clench by his sides, the urge to smoke biting his nerves. There is too much going on, too many unanswered questions all in one night. He’s so _confused, so conflicted,_ his childhood self begging him to stop blaming his father, to trust him and to lean on him and to believe in his speeches about change.

But he _can’t,_ he absolutely _can’t._ The Obito of the present will not allow it. Not after days of enduring so much pain, of trying to be strong, of pretending that he didn’t give a damn about anything in the world even in the face of so much ridicule, of so many families together and strong, families better than his own, families that were built around relationships of trust and love and comfort and protection.

And so many days, so many _fucking_ days of acting like he doesn’t wake up every morning, afraid.

Obito almost jumps out of his skin when he hears the front door begin to unlock, the worst case scenario forming itself in his head as he stares dumbly at the entrance. He doesn’t know whether to feel relief or anger when he sees his father step through.

“Where the hell did you go?” Obito demands as he storms towards his father, not even bothering to hide the fury in his tone. “Do you even know what happened while you were gone?”

“Oh hello, Obito,” his father greets him, voice so calm and unbothered in such a way that only infuriates Obito more. “It’s late. Why aren’t you in bed.”

Obito lets out a growl of frustration. “Stop fucking avoiding my questions all the god damn time. Where the hell did you go?”

His father gives him a small smile, placing his car keys on a nearby table. “I was invited to dinner with my boss,” he finally answers, shedding his coat and moving to hang it against the wall. “Hopefully I can get a promotion.”

 _What a fucking joke,_ Obito thinks to himself. His father works for a failing company, one that Obito is surprised even lasts this long. There is no doubt that it’ll fall within the next five years, maybe less. And even if the company didn’t fail, there was no way his father would ever get promoted with his shitty record and reputation. Everyone in town knows just how neglectful and irresponsible he really is. “But Izumi called you. You couldn’t pause your dinner for _one fucking second_ to pick up the damn phone?”

“It was a very important dinner, Obito,” his father replies, taking off his shoes and placing them near the door. He glances briefly at Obito. “I didn’t want to seem rude.”

“Was that dinner more important than your own _daughter?”_ Obito snaps, exasperated. He’s yelling, and there’s no doubt in his mind that Izumi can hear them, but he couldn’t care less at the moment. This night has just been one big fucking joke, and he was tired of getting rolled over. “She called you because someone was trying to break into our god forsaken house! I barely got home in time to check on her! She was fucking terrified! She’s still terrified!”

His father pauses for a moment before giving Obito that serene smile of his. Obito feels his temples throb. “But she’s okay now, right? You’re a good brother, Obito. I’m glad you were there for her.” He pats Obito on the shoulder and begins to move through the living room, heading towards his own bedroom.

Obito’s mouth falls open, unable to believe the words he just heard. “That’s it? That’s all you have to fucking say?” He resists the urge to tear his hair out as he follows his father through the hall. “What’s all that bullshit about change and loving our goddamn family? You still don’t care, you fucking asshole. You still don’t care about me or Izumi or any of us!”

His father stops in place, and Obito nearly runs into his back from the abruptness of it. “Go to sleep, Obito,” the man utters without turning to face his son. “I think you and I both have had a long night. Sleep well.” He then walks off, opening the door to his bedroom and shutting it before Obito can say anymore.

Obito stares blankly at the closed door, frozen in place and completely dumbfounded by the sheer ridiculousness of it all. _He doesn’t care, he actually doesn’t care._ Obito is horrified when he feels his eyes begin to burn, and he slams his fist against the wall next to him to express his anger. He refuses to cry, he refuses to cry over his father again. It was stupid of him – he said he wouldn’t trust his father, but there was still a part of him hopeful for change. It was stupid of him to hold on like that. _He doesn’t care,_ Obito thinks as he slips to his knees, _and he never will._

-

A full week passes since that nightmare of a night.

Kakashi did not come to school a single day of that week. All of Obito’s texts went unanswered, and when he asked the teachers, none of them would give him straight answers. _He’s not feeling well. He’s sick. He’s out of town._

Kakashi had just completely disappeared. Obito had hoped to see the younger at school on Monday after he left his house without any explanation, to talk to him about what happened, but apparently Kakashi had other plans.

The student has spent most of his lunch lounging on the curb of the abandoned building behind the school, a nearly empty bag of chips by his side as he scrolls through his phone. A frown crosses his face as he suddenly thinks about Kakashi’s words from that night, about Iruka, and how terrified he had seemed.

Obito finds it incredibly frustrating. He had intended to relax with Kakashi, to spend time with him at the party and maybe get to know him a little more. But now it felt as if an ocean formed between them. One too deep and too wide for Obito to cross.

He then remembers Hidan, and how Kakashi strangled him, and how terrifying his eyes had looked as he cried and screamed. He hadn’t gotten a chance to ask the younger about that night properly, and it almost feels as if he never will. He likes Kakashi, he enjoys his company, but a part of him now almost feared the other teen. He thinks back to all of Genma’s warnings, and he wonders about how much truth they may hold.

“Hey,” speaking of Genma. “I haven’t seen the little freak in a while. What happened?”

Obito doesn’t bother to look up from his phone. “I wish I knew.”

Genma stares at him for a moment, pursing his lips before moving to take a seat next to him on the curb. He digs a hand into the bag of chips and sneers when he finds only crumbs. “I thought at least you would know what happened to him. Aren’t you two best friends for life or something?”

“For eternity,” Obito utters sarcastically before putting his phone away and letting out an aggravated sigh. “What do you want, Genma?”

Genma eyes the other carefully, silent for a moment before he finally says, “I wanted to talk to you about something.”

“Nothing’s stopping you now.”

“Yeah,” Genma mutters, wiping his palms against his pants. “I want to know what happened at the party.” Obito looks at him. “I heard Hidan in the hall a couple days ago. He was yelling at his friends about how he was going to jump Kakashi in the locker room or some shit,” he explains, and Obito rolls his eyes at Hidan’s superficiality. “Business as usual, I know. But at the party, he looked fucking terrified,” Genma continues, a strange look in his eyes. “I’ve never seen Hidan so fucking terrified before. He was shaking like a fucking dog, eyes wide and yelping at every little sound. He was angry of course, but he didn’t have that same annoying superiority thing he has going on all the time. He looked traumatized.”

Obito swallows, suddenly feeling nervous. “Serves him right,” he mutters beneath his breath, but he doesn’t completely mean it, that terrible scene replaying over and over again in his head.

“You saw what happened, didn’t you?” Genma says, turning to face the older male. “I want to know what happened to him. I want to know why he’s so mad at Kakashi. I want to know what all that noise was about and why he and you just disappeared afterwards.” He meets Obito’s eyes, staring at him with an intensity that catches the other off guard. “I’m serious, Obito. I know I’ve been calling Kakashi a freak all this time, but no matter how much I ask the teachers, no one’s saying anything. I know there’s something wrong with him. I just want to know what, and not because I’m just some gossiping asshole like you think.” Genma finally looks away, letting out a deep sigh. “I’m our president for a fucking reason. I care about our classmates, even assholes like you and Hidan, and Kakashi so far has proven to be more dangerous than I originally anticipated.”

Obito’s fists clench with that last statement. “Stop talking about him like he’s some sort of _threat,”_ he finds himself saying, and Genma glances at him in curiosity. Obito isn’t sure why he sounds so angry either. “I don’t know what happened either,” he admits through gritted teeth, “but Kakashi definitely didn’t seem like himself that night. It’s hard to explain.”

 _“What_ happened?” Genma asks again, slightly exasperated as he urges Obito to speak. “I’m sorry I called him a freak and dangerous and all that...I’m not going to do anything to him. I just want to what’s wrong.”

“I don’t _know_ what’s wrong,” Obito answers, and he himself is beginning to get frustrated as more and more questions form in his head. _He doesn’t know,_ he doesn’t know _anything_ about Kakashi, and that fact is becoming more and more frustrating as time goes on. “He looked like he lost control…like he wasn’t himself. I went up there and he had Hidan on the floor, hands around his fucking neck. At first I thought for a moment that maybe Hidan tried to touch him or something and Kakashi was just giving it right back, but then…” Obito bites his lips, recalling the look in the younger’s eyes. “He didn’t look...right. And he kept saying nonsense and Hidan kept screaming and everything got so jumbled and – and – I think – _fuck.”_ Obito’s head falls to his knees, his head beginning to ache as he recalled the scene to the best of his ability. “I don’t know what I saw, man. It looked like Kakashi was actually going to _kill_ Hidan that night.” He shakes his head. “I don’t know what happened. I’ve never seen Kakashi like that before.”

Genma is silent for a moment, narrow eyes scrutinizing the older male. “Did you talk to him?” he finally asks.

Obito gives him an almost pitiful look. “He hasn’t answered a single one of my texts or calls.” He lets out an aggravated sigh. “You probably think Kakashi’s even crazier now. But that _wasn’t_ him, Genma. That was not Kakashi that night. I don’t know what happened to him, but just...don’t do anything drastic.” He thinks about how Kakashi had screamed at his house, how he found Kakashi on the ground, how mortified he looked, how terribly his body shook with every second. Obito so badly wanted to know what was going on, but every time he tried, more questions would come into light.

Genma lets out a snort, surprising the other student. “I’m not going to report him to the authorities or something, if that’s what you’re thinking,” he says, patting Obito’s shoulder briefly. “I can’t say I know what’s going on, but I have a general idea. I’m going to keep pestering the principal and stuff until someone tells me what’s up.” That catches Obito’s attention, the older student watching as Genma gets up, stretching his back out. “You’ll be the first one to know if I find anything.”

Obito follows him up, grabbing his wrist and forcing him in place. “Wait,” he says, and Genma sends him a questioning look. He usually doesn’t trust Genma with so much information, but after the younger’s words, he feels like he is the only one he could ask at that moment. He has no one else, anyways. “What do you know about the gardening club?” The question sounds foolish even to him, but Kakashi’s incoherent rambles about that Iruka kid bother Obito the more he thinks about it.

Genma stares at him, perplexed. “What the fuck?”

“Yeah, I know, _Obito wants to know about the gardening club._ Fucking weird, right? Whatever.” Obito rolls his eyes. He knows how stupid and irrelevant the question seems, but he needs information. If someone is really following Kakashi like the younger insisted, then he might be in real danger. He had already been attacked once. “Just tell me what you know about them, class president.”

Genma lets out a snort, pulling his wrist out of Obito’s hand. “They only have four members, three of them boys and one girl,” Genma finally answers, tilting his head to the side to crack his neck. “One of the guys is vegan, but the _annoying_ kind. The girl’s their president, and she forced her boyfriend to join the club because they had so little members. The last guy is some first year, I think. Don’t know anything about him.” Genma brushes a hand through his hair, glancing over at the school. “Because they’re so small, they’re always trying to get people to join the club. It’s super annoying, honestly, but what can you do when you only have four fucking members?”

Obito hums, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Is one of the guys...named Iruka?” he decides to ask, but as soon as he says the name out loud he feels as if he’s being watched. Obito turns around, just in time to notice movement from a nearby dumpster. His eyes narrow in suspicion.

“Uh, I don’t know,” he hears Genma say, and he focuses his attention back on the younger male. “I don’t know any of their names, actually.” Then, after a moment, “I can find out for you, if you want.”

“Thanks, man,” Obito mutters, glancing back at the dumpster. “I’ll owe you one.”

“You owe me hundreds,” Genma quips. “Lunch is almost over, by the way. I’m going to head back now. You probably should, too, if you don’t want to be late for class. Sorry about Kakashi.” He then pats Obito on the shoulder somewhat comfortingly, leaving to head towards the school building across the street without another word.

Obito watches him leave for a few more seconds before immediately turning around, heading towards the dumpster. He sees more movement, hears something bump against the metal of the large object, and he forces the lid open, peering inside.

“Oh my god,” Obito says in exasperation, nearly dropping the lid on the intruder’s head. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

“Please don’t hurt me!”

“Get the fuck out of there, Gai,” Obito orders, stepping back and watching as the other second year climbs out of the dumpster. “What the hell were you doing in there?” he demands as soon as Gai had wiped himself down.

“N-Nothing,” Gai stutters, tugging at the ends of his hair as he takes little steps away from Obito. “Nothing at all.”

Obito scratches his head, unable to comprehend the situation until a thought suddenly crosses his mind. “Were you looking for Kakashi or something?”

Gai’s cheeks immediately redden. “NO!” he yells, and Obito flinches from how loud he is.

“Do you like him or something?” he questions mostly sarcastically, but is surprised when Gai’s face becomes even redder.

“NO!” he yells again, and Obito gives him an annoyed glare. “S-Sorry for yelling! I just – uh – I wasn’t—”

“You actually like him?” Obito asks again, but it sounds more like a statement this time. “How fucking precious. Still doesn’t explain why you were hiding in that dumpster.”

Gai is unable to speak, sputters of words leaving his mouth in a pathetic manner.

“Were you looking for him?” Obito questions, before a thought suddenly crosses his mind. “Have you been following him?” The way Gai pales at the questions causes Obito to take a step forward in an almost menacing manner. “You have, haven’t you?”

Gai hides his face behind his hands, stumbling backwards in fear. “Please don’t tell him,” he pleads, and Obito is surprised to hear that he actually admitted it. “He’ll think I’m creepy or weird or—”

Obito lets out a growl as he grabs Gai by the shirt and shoves him back against the dumpster. Gai lets out a terrified screech, immediately curling in fear as Obito shoves his face into the other’s personal space. “How long have you been doing this?” he demands through clenched teeth, then after a moment of consideration, _“Did you follow him to my fucking house?”_ Obito’s grip tightens when Gai whimpers. “Were you the one trying to break into _my fucking house?”_ It seems like a stretch, but it could be a possibility. He wonders if Gai had it in him, if that quiet and irrelevant little nerd actually had more in him than Obito originally thought. If so, Obito sure as hell is going to beat the shit out of him for terrifying his sister and stalking his friend, school be damned.

 _“Fuck no!”_ Gai screams, attempting to push Obito away but grimacing when Obito growls again. “I would never do that! I haven’t followed Kakashi anywhere outside of school! I don’t even know where he lives, much less you! I’m not some sick stalker!” Obito gives him a look of warning. “Okay, I’m not _that_ much of a stalker!” He wiggles again, struggling to get out of Obito’s grasp. “Please let me go! I promise I won’t follow you guys around anymore! I’m sorry!”

Obito obliges, shoving Gai away and stepping back. He watches apathetically as Gai struggles to regain his footing, the nerd leaning back against the dumpster and catching his breath. “Anymore? How long have you been following us?” he asks, genuinely curious this time.

Gai swallows. “A couple of weeks,” he admits, cheeks darkening again. “I just...I just wanted to see him, but he hasn’t been here all week!” He immediately looks away, hiding his blush behind his hands again. “S-Sorry…but is he okay?”

Obito tilts his head in confusion. “Holy shit, so you actually do _like_ Kakashi?”

“Don’t say it so loud!” Gai whines, as if there was anyone else around in this abandoned parking lot to hear. “I’m just... _curious,_ that’s all!”

 _Holy shit,_ Obito thinks, finding the entire situation both ridiculous and hilarious. “Whatever. Just don’t follow him around anymore, it freaks him out,” Obito warns him, turning to leave as he decides that this conversation is no longer worth his time.

A strange part of him is disappointed that Gai hadn’t been the culprit after all. At least he knew he could take Gai on in a fight. But it wasn’t him.

It can be _anyone._

His palms begin to sweat.

-

Obito does not bother to hide the look of disgust on his face when he spots Hidan after school, said male standing directly in front of Obito’s car and flirting with some girl. Memories of the party suddenly flood his head, the horror in Hidan’s face, how panicked his voice had sounded as he screamed. And Kakashi…

Obito shakes his head, deciding instead to focus on the nuisance before him. He clears his throat as loudly as possible, successfully catching the couple’s attention. He pointedly ignores the suggestive look the girl gives him as he gives Hidan a glare. “That’s my car,” he says, gesturing towards the very vehicle the couple is blocking.

Hidan raises an eyebrow. “Yeah? So?”

“Yeah?” Obito echoes. “So get the fuck away from it.” 

Hidan scoffs, but he pushes away from the hood and steps back so that Obito can get through. But before Obito can open the door to his car, Hidan’s hand is on his shoulder. “You know where that Kakashi kid lives, don’t you?”

Obito immediately jerks his shoulder out of the other’s hand, surprised by the question. He gives Hidan a wary look before glancing over at the girl. Hidan seems to understand, immediately ushering the girl away, who walks off with an indignant huff. “And you want to know because…?” Obito utters, but he knows the answer. His hand resting on the car door handle tightens its grip as he braces himself for Hidan’s next words.

“I was planning on paying him a little visit,” Hidan says with an absurd amount of confidence. “Repay him for what he did to me that night.”

Obito can’t help the scoff that escapes his lips. “Oh, _please._ Kakashi would have you on your knees in _seconds.”_

Hidan glares at him, eyes narrowing as he scrutinizes the other student. Obito merely stares back, his own expression doubtful and apathetic. “He’s a _freak,”_ Hidan states, brows pulled into a frown.

“And you’re an asshole who shouldn’t have fucked with him,” Obito retorts carelessly, already annoyed with the conversation. If it weren’t for Hidan, he’d be on the road home by now.

Hidan lets out a laugh, one that catches Obito by surprise. “So it was _my_ fault? What the fuck did you think happened back there?”

Obito feels chills crawl up his skin for a moment, his hand falling off the handle. “There’s no way Kakashi would have just attacked you for no reason,” he says, but the incident with Gai enters his mind.

“You’re fucking stupid, Obito,” Hidan spits, stepping closer to Obito. “I said it already, _he’s a freak._ I didn’t do _shit_ to him, I didn’t even know he was in that bathroom when I opened that fucking door. All I wanted was to take an innocent little piss, if that’s so hard to believe, then all of a sudden I was on the goddamn ground.”

Obito stares at Hidan for a moment, unsure of what he wants to believe. Hidan’s an asshole, he reminds himself, a selfish asshole who has been known to lie and cheat. He could easily be lying about what happened with Kakashi in order to cover the fact that he got his ass handed to him. But then Obito remembers Gai again, and he feels himself swallow. “You’re lying,” Obito utters, but his tone is weak and he knows it.

“I know you’d like to believe that,” Hidan sneers. “I don’t know if your boner for Kakashi is blinding you from the fucking facts or something, but he’s _crazy,_ dude.”

Obito glares at him, shoving him away. “Get the fuck out of my face.”

“Ask him yourself,” Hidan says, tone challenging. “Ask him what happened back there. Hear it from him, because even he knows he’s fucking insane.” Hidan lets out a sarcastic laugh. “He knows he fucked up. He’s too scared to come to school, so he _definitely_ knows he fucked up. _Ask him.”_

Obito snarls, but he is at a loss for words. What can he say? He doesn’t know what happened that night, only Hidan and Kakashi did. As much as he fucking hated Hidan, he knew that there was something wrong here. Obito didn’t want to believe Hidan. He so badly wanted Kakashi to prove that asshole wrong, but the chances did not work in his favor. He clenches his teeth, frustrated because a part of him knows that Hidan was right.

“The next time I catch him alone, I’ll make sure he never breathes again,” Obito hears Hidan say, and he looks up immediately, a look of disbelief on his face. “He’s not getting away with this,” Hidan continues, apparently not noticing Obito’s change in expression. “I’ll fucking kill him if I have to—”

“You’re not going to touch him,” Obito utters, voice chillingly cold as he takes a step forward, glowering down at the other male. “You’re not even going to fucking _look_ at him.”

Hidan gapes at Obito like he’s insane. “Are you joking? As soon as he shows his face again, I’ll cut his fucking throat.”

Obito laughs. “I _dare_ you,” he says, “I fucking dare you to try. See what happens.” He has Hidan backed up against an adjacent car, and the latter gives him a look of warning.

“Careful, Obito,” he warns lowly, eyes narrowing. “You’re one step away from getting expelled.”

Obito grabs Hidan’s collar and raises his fist, using all his force and punching the frame right by Hidan’s ears. He doesn’t care that he leaves a dent in a random stranger’s car, instead finding satisfaction in the look of fear in the other student’s eyes. “You’re a coward, Hidan,” he mocks, releasing the other male with a scoff. “If you lay _one fucking finger_ on Kakashi, I’ll finish what he started that night.”

He does not wait for Hidan’s response. Yes, Obito wants to know what happened that night, but he doesn’t care if Kakashi attacked Hidan unsolicited. He doesn’t care if everyone thinks Kakashi is crazy or dangerous or a _freak._ He doesn’t fucking care.

Kakashi is one of his only friends, he realized after hearing the way Hidan talked about him. They’ve barely known each other for a month, but Kakashi really is the only person who’s ever really given a damn about Obito. Obito doesn’t care if everyone else thinks he is a freak.

He’ll have Kakashi’s back no matter what.

-

Kakashi is quiet as he stares out his window, observing the busy streets below him once more with a blank look in his eyes. He searches for any familiar faces for a few minutes more before letting out a sigh, closing the window and feeling as the warmth of his room rushes over his skin.

He opens his hand, staring at the bottle of pills on his palm in silence. His eyes trace over the label, reading words but not comprehending them as he slowly rolls the bottle between his fingers. Kakashi glances over at his phone, reading over all the messages from Obito, and one, oddly enough, from Genma. He does not bother to even unlock his phone as he has no intention to respond to anyone.

Kakashi’s mind drifts to the past week, how not a night went by without a terrifying nightmare. They were all so horrible, so scarring that Kakashi could not bring himself to go to school. Not in that state. After every nightmare he finds it harder and harder to keep a grip on his surroundings. Everything seems to swarm and swirl and shift and change. And the whispers from his nightmares would persist through the day, unrelenting, merciless. He’d rather bleed from his ears than listen to any more of that terrible whispering.

Kakashi eyes the colorful little pills, listening to them rattle as he tilts the bottle back and forth. _Don’t do it._ He twists the cap open, shaking a pill onto his free hand and holding it up against the light. His hand is shaking.

_You won’t like it._

He pauses when he hears a knock on the door.

-

Obito swallows as he opens the door to the frozen yogurt shop, cringing a bit when he hears the little bell overhead ring, announcing his presence. He meets eyes with the man behind the cash register, eyebrows rising in mild interest. _Kakashi’s uncle,_ he thinks, and he can see a few similar traits between the man and his friend. Obito scratches the back of his head, suddenly feeling awkward as Kakashi’s uncle gives him a curious stare.

“Welcome,” the man greets him in a surprisingly soothing tone.

Obito nods his head in acknowledgement. “Is, uh, Kakashi home?” he asks, and this time Kakashi’s uncle looks surprised.

“He is…” he answers carefully, leaning against the counter in a casual manner. “Are you one of his classmates?”

“Something like that,” Obito murmurs, glancing around the small shop. The last time he had been here Kakashi had taken him through the back. Being back in the little frozen yogurt shop brings Obito back to his childhood again, days when he begged his parents to take him to see the cool and new frozen yogurt shop that everyone was always talking about. Now the shop is slowly fading into history, once white walls now tinted with beige and chairs chipping at the sides. Obito finds that the dessert no longer makes his mouth water the same way it used to. “Can I see him?”

“He hasn’t been feeling too well lately, but you can go check on him if you’d like.” Kakashi’s uncle moves to grab something from under the counter. “If he lets you in, give him this,” he says as he places a small package on the counter. “It came in about an hour ago and I just haven’t taken it up to him yet.”

“Oh, sure,” Obito says as he walks to the counter and takes the package. He stares down at it curiously before placing his attention back on the older man. “Where is he?”

“In his room,” Kakashi’s uncle replies, gesturing towards the level above them as he then hands Obito keys. “Make sure you return these to me. I don’t have any spares.” The man then pulls out a book, moving to sit against a stool placed behind the counter.

Obito nods, taking the keys in his other hand and turning to head towards the door in the back. He pushes through the door and begins heading up the stairs, silently going over all of the things he wanted to talk to the younger male about. _Why haven’t you been at school? Why did you disappear? What happened at the party?_

Obito unlocks the door, stepping inside the apartment and looking around for any signs of Kakashi. He pockets the keys as his eyes land on the other student’s closed bedroom door, swallowing down the lump that had formed in his throat. He feels a bit nervous, unsure of how Kakashi will react to seeing him in his home all of a sudden. Obito’s hand hovers over the knob of the younger’s door before he pauses, moving to knock his knuckles against the wood.

“Kakashi?” he calls out, hoping the other could hear him through the door. “It’s me, Obito. Your uncle let me in.” Obito’s gaze falls to the package in his hand as he carefully listens for movement in the other room. The soft thuds of footsteps slowly become audible, and the door opens, revealing a very disheveled Kakashi.

The younger male takes a moment to observe Obito’s appearance before a small smile forms on his lips. “Hi,” he greets, opening the door wider and stepping aside to allow the other in. “Are you here to bring me school work?” he asks as Obito follows him into the room, the younger taking a seat on his bed in the corner.

“Ah, no, sorry,” Obito answers, scratching the back of his neck. He holds out the package for Kakashi to take. “Here, your uncle told me to give you this.”

Kakashi stares at the box before carefully taking it into his hands. “It’s okay, I wouldn’t have done the work anyways,” he says absentmindedly as he places the package onto the floor and kicks it under his bed. Obito watches it disappear in silence. He briefly wonders what may be in it. “What are you here for, then?” Kakashi’s question breaks him out of his thoughts, and Obito glances blankly back at him.

He takes in a deep breath before plopping down in one of the beanbag chairs by the wall. “To hang out,” Obito replies as casually as he can before he pulls out his pack of cigarettes. “You in the mood?”

Kakashi stares at the tiny box, an eyebrow raised in interest. “You know what?” he says, standing up and reopening his door. “I am.” He sends Obito a light smile, one that creases his eyes as he gestures for the other to follow him. “Let’s sit on the roof.”

“Isn’t it a little too cold for that?” Obito asks, though he gets up from the beanbag and heads out the door with the younger.

“I’ve been locked up in my room all day,” Kakashi replies, leading the way to the roof. “I think it’s time that I see a little bit of sun.”

Obito snorts, shoving his hands back into his pockets as they exit the warmth of the apartment building and enter the chill breeze that occupies the building’s roof. “There’s barely any sun to enjoy,” he remarks, staring up at the cloudy sky. The sky is completely white and gray, and what few rays of sunlight that manages to escape the boundary of clouds do little to mask the cool air.

Kakashi takes a moment to stare up at the sky as well, mouth slightly open as he observes the stilled clouds. “You don’t need the sun to appreciate the day,” he mutters softly as he pulls his phone out.

Moments later music plays from Kakashi’s phone, the same hipster music he had played the day they first met, but this time Obito does not bother to comment on it. He can admit that the music oddly suits the silver sky. The sounds of cars passing and idle chatter on the streets below mingle with the music and sets a calming ambience. Obito can feel himself relaxing already, and it takes him a moment to realize that he had been staring at Kakashi’s back this entire time.

He shakes his head to snap himself out of his trance, moving to follow the younger to the edge of the roof. Kakashi takes a seat by the railing, scooting forward until his legs dangle over the ledge, arms supported by the lower bar of the metal. He rests his chin against the bar, silently observing the town ahead. Obito gazes over the town in the same contemplative manner before taking his seat next to Kakashi, mimicking his position.

Obito takes a peek at the younger through the corner of his eyes, Kakashi looking as if he were thinking about something far away. His lips are slightly parted and the tip of his nose and cheeks are dusted pink from the cold. His silver hair drifts gently with the breeze, and Obito cannot help but notice the almost pitch black of his eyes and the flutter of his lashes.

Obito quickly shakes his head, sniffing a bit as he moves to pull out his pack of cigarettes. “You haven’t been at school all week,” he begins, handing the younger male a stick. “I thought you said you didn’t make skipping a habit?” he says teasingly, deciding that the best way to get Kakashi to open up a bit more is to ease into the topic, rather than berate him with an interrogation.

Kakashi takes the cigarette, placing it between his lips and turning his head to face Obito. The latter pulls out his lighter, moving to light the smoke, and Kakashi mutters a quick “Thanks” before taking a quick hit. “I wasn’t skipping,” he finally says, wisps of silver slipping from his lips as he speaks. “I felt sick, so I didn’t come to school.”

“You know, you could have texted me or something,” Obito mumbles, pulling out his own cig and lighting it for himself. “Would have been nice to know.”

“Sorry,” Kakashi says with a hint of a smile. “I’d come up with an excuse, but I don’t really have one for that.” Something about the look in his eyes tells Obito not to pry into the topic further. The two are quiet for a moment afterwards, exchanging breaths of smoke with the wind.

Obito decides to change the subject. “Do you want to know who I talked to recently?” he asks, tapping the ashes off of the end of his cigarette on the space between them.

Kakashi gives him a hum of acknowledgement. “Genma?”

“No – well – _yeah,_ but besides him,” Obito mutters a bit awkwardly. Kakashi stares at him. “Gai,” he finally says, “I talked to Gai.”

Kakashi frowns in confusion for a moment, cigarette dangling between his fingertips. “Is that the dude I punched in science class?”

“The one and only,” Obito answers with a nod, before stating bluntly, “He has a crush on you.”

Kakashi’s mouth falls open in disbelief. _“How?”_

Obito laughs slightly at how genuinely confused the younger sounds. “I may or may not have told him that you had a crush on him as a joke when he asked me why you punched him.” Obito shrugs his shoulders at the scandalized look on the other’s face. He exhales another puff of smoke. “Poor guy must have fallen for it too hard. Or maybe he fell for _you_ too hard.”

“I nearly broke his nose. Why the hell did he even believe you?” Kakashi questions, clearly baffled by the new information. “Whatever. It wouldn’t work out between us. He’s too clumsy and...clammy for me.”

Obito can’t help the grin that spreads across his face. “For a student ranked fifth in our year, Gai’s pretty damn gullible.” He moves to lie back against the pavement of the roof, gazing through hooded eyes at the sky above.

Kakashi’s own eyes widen in surprise. “He’s _that_ smart?” he asks Obito in awe, turning to glance at the other male. “Damn, maybe he is my type after all.”

“He’s a scholarship student, though. Aren’t you into rich dudes?”

“Okay, I take that back.”

Obito lets out a genuine laugh, one that seems to dissipate whatever awkwardness he had been feeling before. He can tell that Kakashi is beginning to relax as well. “I wish you could have been at school,” Obito admits. “Shit’s boring without you there to bother me.”

Kakashi quirks an eyebrow. “Aw, you _missed_ me,” he teases, falling backwards to join Obito on the ground. “It’s okay,” he says, giving the older male a cheeky smile. “Absence makes the heart grow fonder.”

“Shut up,” Obito says with no real malice. Kakashi laughs, and the two fall into a comfortable silence as they gaze at the clouds above them, wisps of smoke swirling from the ends of their cigarettes. It’s been a few days since Obito’s last smoke, and he is already beginning to feel a bit buzzed. He rolls his shoulders, releasing a pleased sigh as he immerses himself in the atmosphere. The music is soft and gentle, and even the wind seems to whisper a quiet melody.

Kakashi is the first to break the silence. “Is Izumi okay?” he asks, and when Obito looks at him, there’s a distant look in his eyes. “I’m sorry if I scared her more. I don’t know what I was thinking.” There’s a frown on his face, one that surprises Obito. He hadn’t expected Kakashi to bring up the night first.

“She’s alright now,” Obito answers, placing his free hand behind his head. “Still a little shook up, but she’s better now.”

“Is she alone?” Kakashi asks next, giving Obito a slightly worried look.

Obito feels his heart warm just a bit. Something about Kakashi’s concern for his little sister is endearing to him. “No, she’s sleeping over at a friend’s house for the weekend,” Obito explains, recalling Izumi’s best friend who she has known for all of her life. She is one of the few people Obito fully trusts Izumi with. He’s surprised to find that Kakashi is close to making that list, too. He slowly exhales some smoke, peering over at Kakashi and watching his expressions.

“That’s good,” Kakashi mutters absently, but his brows are pulled into a light frown, as if he is contemplating something. He opens his mouth to speak but closes it again, frustration evident in his eyes.

The music seems to slow for a moment. “Is something wrong?” Obito decides to ask in a cautious tone, and something in Kakashi seems to turn on as the younger immediately puts out his cigarette against the pavement, moving to sit back up, gaze facing the horizon.

“You want to know what happened at the party,” Kakashi states, and Obito blinks at him in surprise. “That’s what you came here for. I know,” he finishes, pulling his legs up against his chest and resting his chin against his knees.

Obito swallows a bit nervously, unsure of how to approach this change of atmosphere. The music stopped, and it takes Obito a moment to realize that the younger had turned it off completely. There’s a pained look in Kakashi’s eyes, as if he is conflicted. “A part of it, yes,” Obito admits, and he slowly sits up, blowing out a puff of smoke as he does. “I just want to know if everything’s alright.”

Kakashi does not look at him, unable to tear his gaze from the neighboring rooftops. “It’s not,” he says softly.

Obito frowns in confusion. “What?”

Kakashi releases a sigh, his grip on his legs tightening ever so slightly. “It’s not alright,” he clarifies. “Everything’s not alright. It hasn’t been alright for a while now.” His voice is quiet as he speaks, a stark contrast as to how the boy usually behaves, even when compared to several minutes ago.

The clouds seem to dim. “What do you mean?” Obito asks, cigarette forgotten in between his fingers as he instead focuses his attention on the younger male.

“That guy from the party,” Kakashi mutters, lifting his hands to stare at them in mild horror, “sometimes I can still feel his neck between my fingers.”

Obito involuntarily shivers from the morbid line, looking away briefly to gather his thoughts. “To be fair, Hidan’s one of the biggest assholes to ever walk the earth. So it isn’t...that bad…” He grimaces a bit when Kakashi gives him a stare of disbelief, knowing that the statement did not serve the comfort he intended it to.

“It doesn’t matter who he is,” Kakashi breathes, eyes once again falling onto his fingers. “If you hadn’t been there to stop me, I could have really... _hurt_ him.”

Obito inhales sharply, understanding the implications. “Why did you do it?” Obito decides to finally ask, knowing that at this point, it was useless to try to beat around the bush. “Did Hidan try to hurt you?”

“No,” Kakashi mutters, his hands falling and wrapping around his ankles. Obito suddenly notices how thin the younger’s legs are, and he briefly wonders if Kakashi had anything to eat yet that day. “He didn’t even touch me...I think…” He licks his lips, and Obito can tell that he’s having trouble forming the right words. “It’s hard to explain. The party, something about it really fucked me up. I don’t know what. Maybe it was the suddenness of it all, or maybe the noise, the loud music, or all the people…” Kakashi drops his head between his knees, shaking in frustration. “I don’t really know, but I couldn’t handle it. There was just too much going on at once, even after I left for the bathroom. That’s where Hidan found me.”

 _He’s here – he’s here –_ Obito remembers Kakashi’s words, spoken in fear. “Then why did you attack Hidan if he didn’t hurt you?” he asks, genuinely confused. 

“I thought he was someone else,” Kakashi confesses, and Obito feels his chills run down his arms. “Wrong place, wrong time.”

More questions enter Obito’s mind before he thinks about Gai, who only tapped Kakashi on the shoulder and received a trip to the nurse in return. Then he thinks about himself, who received a punch to the face as soon as he tried to wake Kakashi up. _Why did that happen again?_ he wonders, a frown crossing his face. Then he remembers something else. _“This is a nightmare,”_ Kakashi had whispered at the party.

“Does this have something to do with...that nightmare you had weeks ago?” Obito asks, watching as Kakashi freezes.

Kakashi gives him a pained look for a moment before slowly nodding his head. “Not just weeks ago,” he mutters. “Nearly every night I have a nightmare. Sometimes the same one over and over again, sometimes a completely new one. But each one is somehow worse than the last.” Kakashi lets out a sigh, turning his head to look into Obito’s eyes. “They’re all I can think about even in the day, so distracting and life-draining and _terrifying_ that I can’t even...think properly.” He sniffs a little, running his hands over his legs. “They’re why I missed school this week.”

“Do you know why?” Obito questions him softly, concern in his eyes as he carefully watches Kakashi’s expressions. “Why you keep having these nightmares, I mean.”

Kakashi seems to hesitate, his eyes drifting towards the ground for just a moment before he shakes his head. “I do,” he says, “but I’m sorry, Obito. It’s...too personal.”

Obito bites back his disappointment, a part of his chest aching just a bit from hearing that statement. It’s an awful reminder as to how little he truly knows about Kakashi. “You know, Izumi also used to have nightmares,” he suddenly mutters, bringing his cigarette back to his lips. He doesn’t know why he decides to bring it up, but now that it’s out there, he finds that he doesn’t mind if Kakashi knows. “Back when she was just in primary school.” He clicks his tongue. “I shouldn’t call them nightmares, actually. They were night terrors. She’d get up in the middle of the night screaming and kicking, and she wouldn’t let anyone touch her. The few sentences she managed to say were jumbled, but you could hear how terrified she was of whatever it was she was dreaming of. I was so young back then that I didn’t know what was happening or how to help her.” Obito picks at a loose piece of thread on the side of his jeans, hesitating on his next words for just a moment. “It was my parents who learned how to deal with her.”

“What did they do?” Kakashi asks him, eyes focused on his face in such a way that makes Obito feel a bit more vulnerable than he’d like.

Obito stares back at him for a moment before clearing his throat, recalling those days from so long ago, back when his family was still together. “At first my dad thought that Izumi was just sleepwalking or something through a nightmare and that all we had to do was wake her up. The thing is, you can’t wake up from night terrors, so Izumi would just get more and more hysterical. My dad thought that there was something genuinely wrong with her and that we had to take her to see a doctor, but my mom decided to intervene.” He smiles a little, something bittersweet about the memory tugged at his heartstrings. “She never tried to wake up or touch or console Izumi while she had her episodes. Instead my mom would sing to her in a soft and calming voice, one that could even put me to sleep through Izumi’s hysteria, and wait out her terror until Izumi finally went back to bed. Her episodes came much less often after that.” He takes another hit from his cigarette. “We eventually took Izumi to see the doctor about it, though. It turned out that my mother was right in her methods. You can’t really do anything about night terrors except to make sure Izumi doesn’t hurt herself and wait for it to end.”

“Does she still have them?” Kakashi questions curiously.

Obito shrugs. “Only every once in a while. As she grew up, they happened less and less. Her last night terror was probably...last year.” Obito purses his lips, recalling that event. It had been the first time he had to deal with Izumi’s night terrors without his parents.

“Your mom sounds like an understanding person,” Kakashi suddenly comments, a hint of envy in his tone. “I kind of wish my mom would be more like that.”

Obito glances briefly up at the clouds. “Well, for cases like that she was plenty understanding. But in other aspects of life, not so much.”

“What do you mean?”

Obito feels his shoulders tense up, that bitter feeling that always seems to pervade his senses returning. “She abandoned us.”

Even the wind falls in silence.

Kakashi looks away, his eyes falling to his shoes. “I’m sorry.”

A tight smile tugs at his lips. “So am I.” Obito scoffs out a laugh of resentment. “She left me and Izumi with my good-for-nothing father when she decided that we were holding her back from her dreams or whatever the fuck she wants to call them.” Obito watches as ashes trickled off the end of his cigarette. “I don’t even know where the fuck she is anymore. Not this country, that’s for sure.” He lets out a deep sigh of reproach, snuffing his cigarette out on the pavement below them.

“Wh-What about your dad?” Kakashi asks, somewhat meekly, as if afraid to ask the question. “It’s okay if you don’t want to tell me,” he quickly says before Obito can even open his mouth to reply. “If it’s too personal, I mean.”

Obito shakes his head, successfully tearing off the thread from his jeans, tossing it away to the side. “It’s fine, he’s actually the worst,” Obito answers in a low grumble, watching as the freed thread sailed with the wind. “His job is shit, he’s a selfish prick, he’s barely around, and sometimes he doesn’t even come home.” Obito lets out another sigh, recalling the days before his parents divorced, the _normal_ days where everyone was together and happy. When they were a real family. “I don’t know what’s worse. How my dad treats us now or what my mom did to him to make him like this.” He lets out another scoff, leaning back against his hands. “Either way, it’s all just one big fucking joke.” 

Kakashi looks at him in concern. “What did you mother do to him?”

Obito gives Kakashi a weary look for a second, unsure of how to answer for a moment as he adjusts his position to a more comfortable one. “It’s not like she directly did anything to hurt or change him or whatever,” Obito tries to explain, brows creasing as he recalls the very day he watched his mother and her suitcases walk out the door. “It’s more of the fact that she left us like she did...It just changed my dad, you know? I’ve seen more life in my grandfather’s fucking corpse. My dad’s just a shell of a human being now.” Obito scratches at the back of his neck, feeling extremely exposed talking about his parents’ divorce, but he can’t get himself to stop. “He didn’t – _doesn’t_ cry. Doesn’t get angry. Doesn’t snap or scream or whine or... _react._ All he does is smile. Smile that same _lifeless_ smile every single day.” He purses his lips. “Izumi is the one that really breaks me, though. Despite all of this shit, she still loves our parents more than anything else in the world. It hurts to see someone so deserving love such undeserving people so unconditionally.”

Kakashi is silent for a moment, unable to reply. Obito doesn’t mind. The silence is welcomed, especially after sharing such a heavy topic. It feels somewhat good to tell Kakashi those things, things he kept locked up within himself for all these years. No one’s ever heard Obito’s side of the story, the entire town just knew that his parents went through some messy divorce, his mother left to travel the world, and his father dragged them down six feet under. His shoulders feel a bit lighter, and his mind clearer.

“My parents are alright, I guess,” Kakashi suddenly says, voice soft as he traces the curve of his knees. Obito glances at him. “They’re pretty normal. Planned to have both me and my brother perfectly. Raised us by the books. But I guess I went against whatever map they had ready for me, because I’m just about the definition of a teenage disappointment.” Kakashi smiles a little, and Obito can’t help but relate to the sentiment. “It was pretty clear that I wasn’t going to turn out to be that picture-perfect son they so badly wanted. But my brother’s a different story. As soon as they saw all of the medals and certificates he began bringing home, my parents began looking at him more.” Kakashi lets out a sigh, somewhat regretfully. “They still treated me okay, I guess. But they felt so...detached. I never really felt like their son, you know? I felt more like…a long-term guest or something in my own home. The only time my parents ever paid attention to me was when stuff like… _that_ …happened.”

Obito inhales sharply, understanding his implications. “So you moved in with your uncle?”

Kakashi seems to lighten up a bit with the mention of his relative. “Yeah. My uncle understands me the best out of all of my family members, and that’s not saying much. But I’m pretty sure half of the things that stressed my parents out were eliminated as soon as I left.” He shrugs his shoulders. “They’ve only checked on me once so far. They probably want to forget about me as quickly as possible.” He smiles sadly. “I know I would.”

Obito feels his chest ache once more with those words and before he even realizes it, he’s pulling Kakashi closer, holding him against the crook of his neck with one arm. His heart pounds for a fraction of a second when he realizes what he did, but the way Kakashi seems to physically relax calms even his own nerves down. Obito focuses his gaze on the dimming sky around them, only then just realizing how late it has gotten.

His skin warm as he feels Kakashi move to wrap his own arms around his torso, the younger’s touch tight but comforting, secure. Obito lifts his free arm up and gently runs his fingers through the other’s hair in a soothing manner, watching as Kakashi’s eyes drifted shut. They sit there in silence for a few minutes more, the sun slowly disappearing over the horizon as they hold each other close.

Obito can’t help the smile that crosses his face, but a remorseful sigh escapes his lips. “It’s like the world just left us behind.”

Kakashi pulls away slowly, gazing into Obito’s eyes, a certain softness in his expression. “Fuck them,” he says with a tender laugh. “We’ll just leave them behind, too.”

Obito finds himself laughing as well. “Yeah.”

“I heard there will be a school dance in two weeks,” Kakashi says after a while. “You coming?”

“Nah, school dances suck.”

“Oh.” Kakashi bites on his lower lip. “I want to go.”

Obito raises an eyebrow. “You want to go? Why?” he asks, genuinely confused. Why would Kakashi want to go to the event, especially after what had happened at Genma’s party?

The younger only shrugs. “I just want to...give parties another chance, I guess. And since it will be held at school, it shouldn’t be as chaotic as Genma’s, right?” He grimaces.

Obito stares at Kakashi for a moment before nodding his head. “Yeah, usually a few teachers will be there to chaperone.”

Kakashi smiles a little. “I hope it will be fun.”

-

Kakashi watches Obito leave through the window of his bedroom, the old car running down the road and disappearing from sight. His heart feels warm after their conversation, and he suddenly finds that he misses the older already. Kakashi shakes his head at the ridiculous thought, heading over to his bed and plopping onto the soft blankets. Almost instantly his thoughts drift back to the other student, and he lets out an embarrassed sigh, pulling his phone out in search of a distraction.

No matter what he did, Obito just kept coming back. His eyes would appear before him, that subtle smile, the way his lips brushed together as he spoke. Kakashi huffs, tossing his phone away and pulling his blankets over his body in an almost childish manner, resolving to force himself to go to sleep. The possibility of a nightmare, however, keeps him awake for minutes more, and the way Obito held him earlier that night returns to his mind. It is as if he could feel the older’s arms around him even now.

Kakashi pulls himself out of bed, rummaging around his room in search of something to do when he remembers the package from earlier. He glances briefly at his bed, contemplative, before reaching under to retrieve the forgotten box.

His fingers trace over the label on top, eyes reading over the presented information. A gasp escapes his lips when he recognizes the address, anxiety housing itself into his stomach once more. Kakashi briefly considers tossing the package into the trash but the guilt in his conscience gets the better of him, and he cautiously sets the box down on his bed before working it open.

Kakashi forgets how to breathe for a second as he stares down at the package’s contents. He feels his body begin to shake, unable to tear his gaze away until his eyes fall to the small piece of paper tucked to the side. He pulls its out carefully.

_Hey big bro,_

_I’m sorry I couldn’t give you this in person. I wanted to, but mom and dad haven’t found time to come and visit and I didn’t want to wait around with it any longer. It’s yours, anyways._

_I hope you’re having fun with uncle. He told us that you’re doing well, and I’m glad. I just wish you’d call us. At least once. Maybe when you have time? Please? Things are lonely here without you, and I really miss you._

_I’ll come to visit as soon as possible! I hope that by then you’ll have lots of stories to share with me about your new life. It must be so exciting!_

_Until then, I hope you can enjoy our little friend there while we’re apart. Looking at it reminded me of when we were younger. The nostalgia! Ah! Hopefully you’ll feel it, too._

_Hope to see you soon!_

Kakashi’s eyes well up with tears, hands shaking as he crumples the paper into a small ball, throwing it at the wall in frustration. He glares at the object in the box, their friend, for a moment, before shoving it back beneath his bed, unable to bear the sight of it any longer. He then jumps back under his covers, stuffing his pillow into his face as he tried his best to muffle his cries. The final line of the letter echoes through his head like a torturous bell.

_Please don’t blame yourself for what happened. It wasn’t your fault._

_Mom, dad, and I still love you no matter what._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So a bit more is revealed about both Obito and Kakashi’s families. This was a pretty dialogue heavy chapter I just noticed. It also got a lot longer than I originally planned because the scene on the rooftop was supposed to be in the sixth chapter but I decided to move it here lol. Hope you guys don’t mind.


	6. Chapter 6

It’s only when Obito parks the car does Kakashi finally let out a breath of relief, the tension that strained his shoulders slowly dissolving into pure exhaustion. The engine dies and the night becomes quiet. Kakashi rests his head against the seat and watches dully as Obito opens the door beside him, exiting the car with a simple gesture for Kakashi to follow.

Kakashi releases a low sigh, rubbing a hand over his face as he catches his own gaze through the rearview mirror. He’s taken back to the bathroom mirror at school, to the flashing lights that never seem to fade from his peripherals. Shouts, screams, cries. He hears them all, listening as they clash together into one resounding ring.

He sees another pair of eyes through the mirror. They’re worried, but warm. And then the ring fades into silence.

Kakashi blinks as he falls back into the present. Obito sits on the hood of the car, waiting for him. Kakashi slowly opens the door and steps out, the night air welcoming him with a lingering breeze.

Crickets croak in the distance as Kakashi approaches Obito, the two exchanging glances before they turn to the playground up ahead. It’s empty, no signs of life. They’re alone out here, and Kakashi lets out another soft breath of relief. He tugs his coat closer and makes his way to the lone swing set in the center, settling himself down on one of the swings as Obito slowly trails behind.

Obito leans back against a leg of the swing set and pulls out a cigarette, Kakashi watching him furtively from the side. The spark Obito ignites flickers through the darkness, his cigarette catching the flame and burning for a fraction of a second before settling into simple smoke. Obito slips his lighter back into his pocket with a low sigh, the embers that trail from the end of the smoke illuminating Obito’s features just enough for Kakashi to make out the faded cut on his lips. Obito catches his stare and raises an eyebrow in question.

Kakashi only clears his throat and looks away. 

Obito eyes him carefully for a few moments longer before he finally decides to speak, “…You seem disappointed.”

Kakashi’s grip on his swing tightens ever so slightly, his gaze falling to his lap. “I am.” His words sound hollow.

Obito suddenly lets out a snort, and Kakashi blinks in surprise at the unexpected reaction. “I told you school dances sucked,” Obito says, amusement clear in his tone. “What a waste of time.”

Kakashi peers back at Obito in slight indignation, not sure why he even expected Obito to say anything else. He had complained about how lame the music would be and how trashy their classmates would act before they even arrived at the school, and it reminded Kakashi a lot of how Obito treated Genma’s parties. Just a place to get drunk or stoned, to waste time with everyone else who’s decided to lose their minds for a night. Kakashi can at least say the dance was far less chaotic than Genma’s party, but the atmosphere felt just as suffocating. He hated it there, and he didn’t need Obito to rub anymore salt into the wound.

“You didn’t have to come with me, you know,” Kakashi utters, remembering the way Obito had showed up at his door that night dressed up in a nice dress shirt and slacks. It surprised Kakashi, to say the least. He didn’t think Obito would go to the dance when Kakashi told him he’d be going, nor did he even imagine that Obito would bother to get dressed for it. Something about the sight had left Kakashi slightly dazed, but still. He never invited Obito out. Kakashi had fully expected to attend their school dance alone.

“Oh, I know.”

A lingering silence settles between them with those words, and Kakashi blinks, waiting for Obito to say more on the matter. Obito only stretches his neck out, tilting his head from one side to the other as if unbothered by Kakashi’s questioning stare. “Is…is that it?” Kakashi asks when Obito shows no signs of explaining himself.

Obito raises an eyebrow in question, smoke trailing from the end of his cigarette and curling through the night air in thin wisps.

“…Is that all you’re going to say?” Kakashi clarifies, feeling almost awkward under Obito’s stare as his fingers fiddle idly with the chains of his swing.

“Yeah?” Obito answers, expressionless, offering nothing once more.

The two merely stare at each other through the silence of the night before Kakashi tears his gaze away, his palms beginning to sweat ever so slightly. The breeze brings about another chill, gentle yet strong enough to make its presence known through the light sway of the trees overseeing the park. Kakashi shifts, the swing creaking beneath him as he searches for the right words to say.

“Why did you come with me, then?” Kakashi decides to ask, the question that had followed him the entire night finally coming into light.

“You looked like you really wanted to go,” Obito says simply, as if there were no other possible explanations for a decision so uncharacteristic of him.

“But you clearly didn’t,” Kakashi reminds him, and Obito only shrugs his shoulders in response. “I never asked you to come,” Kakashi pushes, watching as Obito releases a low sigh between a cloud of smoke.

“Who else would have taken you?” Obito says, and Kakashi peers at him in slight confusion. “No one goes to a dance without a date.”

Kakashi bristles instantly, the words having more effect on him than they should as his eyes widen in surprise. “What? Plenty of people do,” he petulantly says, swallowing when Obito gives him a doubtful look. “And I could have gone by myself just fine.”

“Sure, but you would have had an even worse time if I hadn’t been there,” Obito states as if it’s a matter-of-fact, a smug yet knowing look in his eyes. “And I was just kidding. Maybe I did want to go to the dance and you were just a good excuse.”

Kakashi pauses at that. “Really?”

“Of course not.” Obito laughs when Kakashi gives him a disgruntled look. “Figured you’d be lonely if your only friend didn’t go with you.”

Kakashi rolls his eyes. “Apparently my only friend has an inflated ego.”

Obito gives him a small smile, sincerity taking his stare as he moves to sit on the swing beside him, cigarette dangling between his lips. “I didn’t have anything else to do, so I figured I’d spend the night with you.”

Kakashi feels his heart pound in his chest, hand clutching over his coat in surprise. He glances down at his hand, frowning as he tries to make sense of the strange waves stirring within him.

Before he can assess the situation further, Obito asks, “Why did you even want to go to that thing?” Hints of a rasp coat the edges of his words from the smoke, rough enough to send shivers down Kakashi’s spine.

He feels… _weird._

“…I’ve never been to a dance before,” Kakashi quietly admits after a few moments, heels digging into the woodchips below in an effort to rid himself of the little flutters in his chest, “so I’ve always wanted to…check them out…” He bites his lip, looking almost ashamed by his confession.

Kakashi can feel Obito’s stare on his profile, and he tugs his coat closer, the scent of Obito’s cigarette lingering in the air between them. The way Obito looks at him has him feeling oddly nervous, the feeling so familiar yet so _unfamiliar_ at the same time. It doesn’t take long for Kakashi to pinpoint when he last felt this way, and he swallows nervously, barely able to meet Obito’s eyes as his heart stirs in his chest.

“The only people who actually enjoy dances are the ones who get to grind on their dates,” Obito suddenly utters as if it’s law, and it takes Kakashi a few seconds to remember what they were talking about. “The rest are all liars.” 

“I…I see,” Kakashi murmurs, feeling a bit foolish as he avoids Obito’s gaze. He lets out a soft sigh, feeling far too exhausted to deal with the strange musings of his heart.

 _Stop it,_ Kakashi pleads, but his words fall as empty prayers. His eyes automatically wander to Obito’s lips, to the cigarette hanging from the corner in a precarious manner. The moonlight seems to cradle Obito’s profile, a sight that leaves Kakashi slightly breathless. He can’t quite get himself to look away.

Obito seems to notice Kakashi’s stare as he suddenly turns to meet his eyes, the spark of contact hitching Kakashi’s breath. He isn’t sure what just happened, nor does he fully understand the strange stretches within his heart.

“Want one?” Obito asks when Kakashi doesn’t say anything. It is only when Obito tilts his head does Kakashi notice the offered cigarette box between them.

“S-Sure,” Kakashi forces himself to say, a bit flustered as he shakily takes a stick. Obito hands him his lighter and leans back against his swing, a distant look in his eyes as Kakashi fumbles to catch a proper spark beside him. Seconds pass before Kakashi finally manages to light up, the boy hurriedly taking a hit and coughing as he tries his best to smother his nerves.

_What was that?_

Kakashi isn’t quite sure himself. When he peers over at Obito again, he finds himself unable to stare at anything but his lips once more. Kakashi lets out a soft curse, cheeks burning with embarrassment as he forces himself to look away with a rough shake of his head.

Obito watches Kakashi for a moment, a concerned look in his eyes. “Are you alright?” he asks him quietly, voice low as if afraid the rest of the stars above would hear them.

Kakashi wipes his palms against his lap, a thin smile on his lips. “I’m fine,” he answers, but he pauses, the scent of nicotine drifting through the air. “Just….just a little cold, that’s all.”

He knows that Obito doesn’t believe him.

“I didn’t think you’d be this upset about some dance,” Obito murmurs retrospectively, his stare never leaving Kakashi’s flustered expression.

“I’m not,” Kakashi denies again. He isn’t lying, not completely, this time. He’s far more concerned with the strange flutter of his heart every time Obito looks at him.

“Don’t lie,” Obito teases, a hint of a smile on his lips. “You only get this defensive when you’re pouting about something.”

 _“Pouting?”_ Kakashi repeats, Obito only giving him a knowing look in response. “I’m not _pouting,_ I’m just _cold.”_

“Look me in the eyes and say that again,” Obito challenges with a slight smirk, and Kakashi’s heart instantly flutters at the sight.

“I-I…” Kakashi loses his words and looks away, fingers shaking slightly as he takes in some smoke from his cigarette. He can feel the heat on his cheeks and he curses silently to himself. “This is stupid,” he utters as gets up, tossing his cigarette out with a rough sigh.

Obito raises an eyebrow at him. “That was quick.”

Kakashi only gives him a middle finger in response, getting up from his place on the swings and heading for a nearby bench by the outskirts of the playground. His heart continues to flutter unbearably in his chest, picking up in speed every time Obito’s eyes meet his. It’s so, so strange. He isn’t sure what to make of it all.

“Come on, Kakashi. Parties aren’t something worth getting upset over,” Obito continues, not noticing Kakashi’s inner dilemma at all. He rises to his own feet and follows Kakashi to the bench. “They’re only there to fill in space and waste time. You can’t expect much from them.”

“Great,” Kakashi forces himself to say. “Good to know I wasn’t missing much.” The bench dips ever so slightly as Obito takes a seat next to him, Kakashi swallowing a little as he remains in place. He tries his best to maintain his composure, but Obito is a little too close for comfort, Kakashi’s heart running summersaults in his chest and making him feel like an absolute fool.

Obito definitely doesn’t miss the way Kakashi refuses to look him directly in the eyes. “Parties would be great if life was a high school sitcom, but reality sucks,” Obito muses, taking a moment to exhale another cloud of smoke.

Kakashi rolls his eyes, unable to hide the annoyance in his tone. “Got any more wise words of nihilism?”

“Yeah, actually, nothing we do matters,” Obito states, laughing when Kakashi lets out a scoff. He puts his hands up in a mocking manner. “I’m just trying to make you feel better.”

“…You’re awful at it,” Kakashi murmurs after a moment, flushing a little when Obito laughs again. “Stop bringing the dance up already. I don’t want to think about it anymore.”

“There’s that pout again,” Obito lilts beside him, and Kakashi lets out an annoyed sigh, sending Obito a narrow glare. “How cute.”

“Leave me alone,” Kakashi huffs, the heat in his cheeks rendering him lightheaded as the scent of Obito’s cigarette drifts by his nose once more.

“You ever shotgun before?” Obito asks him suddenly.

Kakashi blinks in surprise. “What?”

“Shotgun. You know.” Obito takes another hit from his cigarette before slowly streaming out a plume of smoke as if to demonstrate his question.

Kakashi finds himself staring at Obito’s lips once more, and the implications stir Kakashi’s heart a little too far. He quickly looks away. “What do you want to know _that_ for?”

Obito shrugs. “You seem like the type to be into that sort of thing.” When Kakashi doesn’t say anything, Obito asks next, “Want to try it?”

Kakashi’s heart skips a beat in his chest, wide eyes meeting Obito’s own amused ones. “U-Um—”

“I’m joking, Kakashi, relax,” Obito says with a teasing grin. “Just trying to lighten up the mood a little.”

Kakashi flushes, feeling a bit embarrassed for even thinking anything else. “…You have a terrible sense of humor,” is all he can really say as he tries his best to fight off the heat staining his cheeks.

Obito snorts. “Maybe. Cheer up and I’ll stop.”

Kakashi shifts a little on the bench, furtively scooting away from the other male, hoping that the bit of distance may give him some more room to breathe. “I’m…really not that upset…” he says again, delicately rubbing his arm as a gust of wind incites a shiver through his skin.

“Sure you aren’t,” Obito utters between another cloud of smoke. “Fuck the dance, honestly,” he states out of nowhere, and before Kakashi can react, he slings an arm around Kakashi’s shoulders, pulling him closer to his side. Kakashi feels his heart flutter weakly in his chest, and he suppresses the urge to curse, the scent from Obito’s cigarette nearly dizzying from their proximity. “It’s much better out here than it was in that sweaty gym anyways.”

Kakashi’s fingers dig into the fabric of his coat, hyperaware of the feeling of Obito’s body against his. He’s used to this, or at least he thinks he is. Obito has made it a habit to use him as an armrest no matter how much it annoys Kakashi. But it feels… _different_ today.

Or maybe _Kakashi_ feels different today.

Kakashi swallows. “I…I guess you’re right. For once,” he utters before pausing thoughtfully. “…You’re being strangely… _nice_ tonight.”

Obito doesn’t even look at him. “It’s a nice night,” he says with a shrug, but something lingers in his tone, something Kakashi can’t quite name. “Maybe the stars are aligned or something.”

Kakashi stares back at Obito for a moment longer, something about his words sparking memories within him, and suddenly he is reminded of their first evening out on the roof, when he had taken Obito up there to watch the skyline. His mind continues to wander to all the other afternoons they spent lazing around as Obito begins to thumb little circles on his shoulders, a move that feels strangely intimate.

“You know,” Kakashi softly says, “I’ve always liked looking at the stars.” The breeze quickens the pace of his heart and he tugs his coat closer. He feels himself relaxing in Obito’s hold, the reminder of the time they’ve spent together feeling like a breath of fresh air.

Obito hums. “You ever see a falling star out there?”

“Yeah, I have,” Kakashi says.

Obito simpers. “I’ve never seen one. Always a little too impatient.” He tosses his spent cigarette off to the side before moving away to light up another one. Kakashi swallows, watching Obito from the corner of his eyes, quietly admiring the way the little fire of Obito’s lighter illuminates his skin with an amber glow. “Think I’ll see one tonight?” Obito asks him, slinging his arm over Kakashi’s shoulders once more.

The scent of nicotine returns and Kakashi bites his lip. “We’d have to be further out of town if you want a chance,” Kakashi tells him.

Obito lets out a playful scoff. “Whatever. Falling stars are overrated. I’ll just settle for what we have over here.”

“Are they?”

Obito shrugs. “They’re not so special. Stars. They’re all the same.” He pauses briefly, as if a thought had suddenly crossed his mind. “The moon is something else, though.”

Kakashi gives him a look of interest. “The moon?”

“Yeah,” Obito utters after a moment. “I’ve always liked the moon. Between all the stars in the sky I always find myself staring right at the moon.”

“You sound like you’re in love,” Kakashi warmly teases with a soft smile. He feels himself flush when Obito looks at him, but he can’t find it in himself to care at the moment.

“It’s a good night to be vaguely romantic,” Obito sarcastically remarks, but Kakashi doesn’t miss the slight smile on his lips.

Kakashi gives him a smug grin. “You like someone, don’t you, Uchiha Obito?” His heart flutters at the prospect. It’s supposed to be a joke, but Kakashi can’t help but wonder.

Obito stares at Kakashi for a moment before rolling his eyes. “Yeah, I’m in fucking love with Genma. He reminds me of the moon.”

Kakashi lets out a feigned gasp. _“Scandalous.”_

“Mhm. I’ll kill you if you tell anyone,” Obito retorts, and Kakashi only laughs again, a bit relieved.

Silence then falls between them, the low whistle of the breeze providing a soft melody as they sit quietly together, merely enjoying the company of the stars. Kakashi takes a moment to gaze up at the moon, feeling rather small under its ethereal glow before he falls back to earth. He eyes Obito curiously, observing the way his lips part with every breath of smoke. Kakashi’s heart begins to stir in his chest once more as a sudden wave of boldness washes over him. He carefully leans his head against Obito’s shoulder, his heart beating feverishly in his chest, the warmth on his cheeks both pleasant and unpleasant at the same time. 

Kakashi knows this feeling. He’s felt it before, but he isn’t sure what to make of it now.

But at this point, he’s far too exhausted to care. So he lets himself enjoy the contact, settling against Obito’s form with a soft sigh of contentment. He throws every cautious whisper away with the wind, feeling the light of the moon’s silent beauty, his next words leaving his lips before he can stop himself. “Obito,” he says, “have you ever been in love before?”

“…Definitely not,” Obito answers in a disinterested manner, but when Kakashi looks at him, he can tell that there’s more to it. Kakashi only hums, nodding his head in understanding as he indulges himself in the feeling of Obito’s arm around him. “What about you?” Obito asks him, and Kakashi looks back up in surprise. “Were you ever in love?”

Kakashi blinks, his gaze falling to his lap as he ponders the question. Whispers brush against his ears, uncertainty filling his features as they juggle one answer to the next.

_Yes?_

_No._

_You're certain it’s no?_

“I…” Kakashi feels his words escape him as his eyes meet Obito’s once more, the intimate space between them suddenly becoming very apparent. He can feel Obito’s breath on his skin and the heat from his cigarette, and he’s almost certain that Obito can feel his, but neither make any move to part.

“Kakashi?” Obito murmurs, and the way he says his name sends his heart into disarray.

“I…I don’t know,” Kakashi finally admits, his thoughts carelessly slipping from his lips as he breathes in the scent of Obito’s smoke, “But I think I’d like to be.”

It’s dangerously intoxicating.

Kakashi’s gaze drops to Obito’s lips once more. His heart skips a beat, fingers curling around the fabric of his coat as a million thoughts pass through his head, none of which he can really make sense of. He can feel himself heating up under Obito’s stare, and he lets out a soft and shaky sigh when Obito finally pulls away.

“…All this talk about the moon and stars is making you a hopeless romantic,” Obito quietly jokes with a breath of a laugh. There’s something off about his smile, something Kakashi can’t name, but it’s warm all the same, and Kakashi can’t help but return it.

“I guess it is,” Kakashi breathes as his gaze wanders back to the moon. “It’s a pretty thing, isn’t it?”

Obito only gives him another smile. “It’s late,” he utters instead of answering, slowly standing up with a stretch of his arms. “Come on, I’ll take you home.”

Kakashi watches Obito as he begins to walk away, his heart thrumming in his chest as he recalls the way Obito held him. The way he looked at him. The way everything had felt.

It’s strange. So, _so_ strange.

Part of him wants this.

_You don’t know him._

_But I do._

_But you don’t._

Others are too afraid.

But he’s too tired to think. Far too tired, so he pushes it all back and braves the winds while he still can.

“Hey, Obito?” Kakashi calls out, hints of pink coating his cheeks as he slowly stands up.

Obito glances over his shoulder, a questioning look in his eyes. “Yes?”

Kakashi smiles. “Thanks for going out with me tonight.”

Obito’s own expression softens, the corners of his lips curling upward in response. Kakashi quietly savors the sight, deciding that he’d like to see Obito smile like that a little more often.

“No problem, Kakashi.”

-

It’s Sunday morning when Obito receives a strange call from Genma.

“It’s 8 am on a Sunday, what the hell do _you_ want?” Obito groans into the phone as soon as he picks it up. His eyes are heavy and his throat groggy and dry, body stiff and unwilling to move.

 _“Sorry asshole, but I thought you’d like to hear this,”_ comes Genma’s snide reply, and Obito lets out another annoyed groan.

“Hear _what?_ If you don’t get to the fucking point faster, I’m hanging up,” he utters back, head already falling back against his pillows as he feels sleep smooth over his eyelids.

Genma scoffs, the sound distorted over the phone. _“It’s about Kakashi. I found something out.”_

That wakes Obito up. The student immediately sits up in his bed, eyes glancing around his room as he blinked his bleariness away. “What do you have?”

_“Wow, I should just start every conversation I have with you with Kakashi’s fucking name. He’s like a goddamn trigger word for you, it’s insane—”_

“I’m actually going to hang up on you if you don’t tell me—”

 _“Alright, alright, Jesus Christ, you’re touchy.”_ Genma sniffs, and Obito cringes at the sound. _“I had some meetings with the class council at school yesterday, but on my way to leave afterwards, I overheard the counselors talking in the hall. It turns out that I was right – well, kind of right. I knew he didn’t just randomly transfer. He really did get kicked out of his old school.”_

“That isn’t surprising,” Obito deadpans, already feeling disappointed with the “new” information.

_“It wasn’t for skipping or something stupid like that. He actually had three strikes against him for three separate acts of violence. They didn’t talk about any specifics, but the only thing that’s certain is that Kakashi…has quite a record.”_

Obito frowns. The fact is a bit unsettling, but if he’s being completely honest, it probably isn’t that different from Obito’s own record. The revelation didn’t change Obito’s views on Kakashi. If anything, he feels for the younger student a bit more. They are probably more similar than they realized. “Is that it?” he asks, leaning back against his headboard and staring at the wall across from him.

 _“No, actually,”_ Genma continues, _“one of the counselors mentioned something about medications. Apparently Kakashi hasn’t been taking his meds, and it worries her because she doesn’t believe that he can handle himself or something. But apparently his psychiatrist or whatever has agreed to give it a chance.”_

“The hell is he on meds for?” Obito wonders out loud, frowning a bit. _Nightmares?_ he thinks, but he isn’t so sure.

 _“I don’t know, man,”_ Genma answers, and it’s clear that he’s equally as frustrated. _“Don’t know what kind of pills he’s popped or what he took them for. They didn’t say. But I told you, man, I told you. There’s something wrong with him.”_

“Watch it,” Obito warns, irritated with the insinuations.

Genma sighs. _“Sorry. I didn’t mean it like that. But you have to admit, it’s kind of weird. Or like, Kakashi’s kind of weird. It’s like his entire life’s locked behind a fucking door or something. Did he tell you anything?”_

Obito swallows. “No,” he says, _at least not about his history._ All he really knows about Kakashi at this point is the shit about his parents.

_“Damn. Well, that’s all I have at the moment. Sorry to wake you up.”_

“It’s whatever,” Obito mutters back, sliding back down onto his pillow. Then, after a moment, “…Thanks.”

 _“Yeah, I’d say no problem, but I almost got caught eavesdropping so…”_ Obito rolls his eyes at the younger male’s response. _“Wait, actually, I just remembered something.”_

“What?” Obito says, already settling under his blankets and closing his eyes, ready to fall back asleep.

_“Remember when you asked me about the gardening club?”_

Obito only hums.

 _“Well, while at the council meeting we started sorting through the clubs and I was able to look through every club’s files. I found the gardening club and it was just as I said, four members, four losers. I got their names, though.”_ Genma pauses for a moment, and Obito can vaguely hear the sound of papers being turned. _“The president’s name is Anko. Her boyfriend is some guy named Ibiki. The entitled prick is Hayate. I’m pretty sure I heard a rumor once that Hayate slept with Anko, by the way—”_

Obito’s eyes open slightly, automatically annoyed with the irrelevant information. “Genma,” he warns again.

_“Sorry, I couldn’t help myself. Anyways, the last kid, the first year is named Izumo, not Iruka.”_

Obito frowns a bit. “Are you sure?”

 _“Positive,”_ Genma returns in confirmation. _“I thought whatever at first, but then I decided to take things further. Sometimes kids join clubs informally and therefore aren’t registered in the club’s files as an official member. It’s happened before, which is annoying, but we have a process for figuring shit like that out. It took a while, but I sorted through all of the first years at our school.”_

“Get to the point already,” Obito mutters, rubbing at his eyes to stay awake.

 _“I was, dickhead,”_ Genma growls. He lets out an irritated sigh before continuing, _“Not a single Iruka in our first year class.”_

Obito pauses, frowning in confusion. “I…didn’t actually know if he’s a first year or not, so maybe—”

 _“I thought about that already,”_ Genma says, and he sounds just as confused as Obito feels. _“So I checked our year’s students, and then the third years. Nothing. So I double checked each year. Then triple checked them. Then I even made someone else look at them, too. Nothing.”_

“What the hell?” Obito says out loud, all traces of sleep now gone as fear suddenly takes over, and he thinks about the way Kakashi had cried about being followed. _This might be dangerous,_ he thinks, biting his lip, _more dangerous than I originally thought._

 _“He wasn't there, dude,”_ Genma finally finishes, cutting Obito out of his thoughts. His stomach drops. _“There is no Iruka registered at our school.”_

-

“Kakashi?” Obito calls out to the younger male from the other end of the hall, watching as the latter’s shoulders tense at the sound of his name. “It’s lunch now, isn’t it? Where are you going?” It had become routine for the two of them to eat lunch together, Kakashi usually waiting for him outside of his classroom, but today he wasn’t there. 

Kakashi gives the male a somewhat forced smile, scratching the back of his neck as he waits for Obito to catch up to him. “Uh, yeah, I have somewhere to go,” he answers timidly, which Obito finds odd, and he raises an eyebrow in interest.

“Where?” he asks, unable to hide his suspicion.

Kakashi stares at him for a moment before his cheeks begin to color. “I promised to meet up with a friend.” There’s embarrassment in his tone, which surprises Obito even further.

 _“A friend?”_ Obito echoes. “Since when did you make _a friend?”_

“Very funny, asshole,” Kakashi mutters with a roll of his eyes and a middle finger in the air. "Last time I checked, you didn’t have very many friends either.” His tone is light, but there’s still a foreign look in his eyes.

Obito chooses to ignore the small details, smirking instead. “So where are you going?” he asks, placing his hands in his pockets as he follows the younger down the hall.

Kakashi stares at him. “Where are you going?” he questions instead of answering, giving Obito an incredulous look. “Nobody said you were invited.”

Obito feigns a look of hurt, but a part of him is. “Why can’t I come with you? Don’t want to introduce me to your little friend?” _Something isn’t right._

“You don’t exactly make the best first impressions,” Kakashi retorts, and Obito can’t help but laugh as he remembers the way he introduced himself to the other on that fateful day. Kakashi smiles too, but it doesn’t last.

“But I want to come, man, it’s not like I have anything better to do anyways,” Obito says, genuinely confused as to why Kakashi is so against him joining. “What are you hiding?” he asks, but he immediately regrets it when he sees the younger’s change in expression.

Kakashi is quiet for a moment, an uncomfortable look in his eyes. “I’m sorry, Obito,” he mutters, averting his gaze. “Things are weird. I’d rather you not spend so much time around me for a little while.”

Obito freezes. _What?_ “Where the hell is this coming from?” he voices out loud, brows pulled together into a frown of concern. It had been over two weeks since the school dance, and Kakashi had seemed perfectly fine since. They hung out nearly every day, always eating lunch and going home together. And now, out of nowhere, Kakashi thinks that _they shouldn’t spend so much time together?_

Kakashi opens his mouth to speak, a conflicted expression on his face as he struggles to find words, but they’re interrupted by the sound of the principal’s voice.

“Uchiha Obito,” the man says, and Obito feels his heart pound at the address. He turns around, trying to maintain a neutral look on his face while he frantically tries to remember any moment from the past month in which he may have fucked up. “Come see me in my office.” The principal doesn’t even bother to wait for Obito’s response, merely turning around and heading towards the main office.

Obito gapes for a bit, watching the man leave with a mixture of surprise and fear churning in his stomach. _I can’t get expelled, I can’t get expelled._ He turns to look at Kakashi, the younger giving him a look of question. “I can’t get expelled,” he utters, voice sounding like a prayer.

“Did you do anything?” Kakashi asks him, looking just as confused as him.

“No, not anything that I remember,” Obito mutters. He hasn’t skipped a single day since his suspension. None of the teachers seemed to have a problem with him (besides the fact that he slept in the back of every class every day). And he only smokes at the abandoned building across from the school, which is off campus, so they can’t punish him for that, right?

Obito shakes his head, giving Kakashi a remorseful look before turning to leave. A part of him wants to stay and follow Kakashi anyways, to be spiteful despite the younger’s wishes for them to be apart, but he knew he couldn’t tick off the principal any more than he already has by simply existing. He curses his luck but waves a halfhearted goodbye to the other student, dragging his feet towards the principal’s office.

He does not get to see the painful look in Kakashi’s eyes as he turns away.

-

Kakashi stares uncertainly at the greenhouse ahead of him, the glass slightly tinted and the view inside obscured by a variety of plants. He can feel his heart pounding in warning within his chest, the better parts of him begging for him to turn around and return to the main building. It is lunch time, and he is partially worried and partially glad that Obito is not here with him thanks to the principal.

Partially worried, because he isn’t sure what to expect, and Obito seems to naturally calm him down, even just by a little. Partially glad, because he does not want Obito to know what he is doing. He does not want Obito to meet Iruka.

He briefly wonders if Obito is okay, if he got in trouble or not, before he shakes his head and focuses back on the task ahead of him.

The greenhouse seems to stare back.

 _Maybe,_ he thinks, if he just checks out the gardening club once, Iruka will finally leave him alone. He won’t follow Kakashi home on the bus, he won’t watch him through the windows even after the hours of the sun, and he won’t ask Kakashi to ever come and check out the club ever again. Kakashi has no interest in gardening, no interest in nature. Maybe Iruka only needs to see that. Maybe.

But every pang of his heart feels deeper than the last, stretching and constricting and reverberating the same exact message of warning: _Don’t go in there. Don’t go in there._ Kakashi swallows down a lump in his throat as a gust of wind blows against his still form. It’s strong, as if coercing him towards the greenhouse, grabbing him by the arms and pushing him forward.

 _Just one chance,_ Kakashi promises. _Just one chance,_ and he will never do this again. Iruka will never bother him again.

_You don’t believe that, do you?_

Kakashi squeezes his eyes shut, listening to his heart pound as his hand reaches out for the door. His grip is light as he pushes the door open, submerging himself into the rushing warmth of the greenhouse. He opens his eyes, and everything is still.

A narrow pathway cuts down the center of the interior, rows of plants of different varieties lining down the path like pews. The border is filled to the brim with taller plants while the rows house smaller buds, some flowering, some withered and curled. The low-hanging lights are turned off as frail rays of sunlight seep through the glass that encases the building.

Kakashi’s eyes trace the cramped space, eyeing the stems and leaves littering the ground and protruding through the air. Just as he reaches forward to brush a long leaf out of his path, he hears a soft voice sing, _“The poor soul sat sighing by a sycamore tree—”_ and he freezes, glancing around the static greenhouse for source of the humming voice, “— _Sing all a green willow, willow, willow willow.”_

Kakashi slowly moves down the aisle, leaves sliding against his shoulders like nudging fingers, following the voice.

 _“With his hand in his bosom and his head upon his knee.”_ The plants seem to sway slightly with the hums of the singer’s soft croons, a lifeless ripple that follows a vocal breeze. _“Oh willow, willow willow, shall be my garland.”_

Kakashi’s feet move for him, his mind white as the melody stirs him blindly forward.

_“He sighed in his singing and made a great moan._

_Sing all a green willow, willow, willow willow.”_

Kakashi stops moving, eyes watching as the boy in the corner moves, a glimmer of light catching the scissors in his hands. _Iruka,_ Kakashi recognizes with a catch of his breath, unable to look away as the younger male clips through the stems of roses, withered buds falling to the ground and as a collection of red.

 _“I am dead to all pleasure, my true love is—”_ Iruka pauses, a final snip of his scissors resonating across the silent glass walls of the greenhouse, clipping the last bud, the darkened rose falling with a soft _thud._ “Kakashi,” he says in greeting, glancing over his shoulder at the other student through hooded eyes. A small, relaxed smile decorates his face, scissors resting idly between his fingers at his side. “You came after all.”

Kakashi stares at Iruka, unable to move. His brows are pulled together in a frown of discomfort, the silent melody of the chilling song flushing his blood with ice. “What were you singing?” he asks, hands shoved deep into his pockets. When Iruka turns around to step towards him, Kakashi immediately steps back. “What were you singing?” Kakashi asks again, a bit more forceful this time, and in the back of his mind he can hear the leaves of a tree sway.

Iruka’s smile does not leave his face. “Oh, nothing,” he says, moving past Kakashi and to another rosebush, gloved hands cupping a thorned stem, its rose almost burnt, petals curling in as if hiding from the light. “Since you finally came, maybe you can help me with something,” he offers, gesturing with a hand for the other to come closer, the blades of his scissors shining under the sunlight.

His heart pounds, and Kakashi hesitates. “What?” he manages to find his voice, and when Iruka does not say anything, he moves to stand beside him, peering carefully over his shoulder.

Iruka’s hand that cupped the stem moves to the flower itself, peeling back one of the petals and exposing the crevice. It takes a few more seconds of silence before Kakashi steps closer, peering between the opened folds. He blinks in confusion until he senses movement, and a small, green insect slowly creeps out from between the petals. Kakashi does not realize he is holding his breath until Iruka glances up at him, eyes unreadable.

“Watch,” Iruka says, and his fingers brush delicately against the leaves of the rose before lifting it, exposing its underbelly. Kakashi gasps as he sees what appears to be hundreds of little green bugs, crawling across the expanse of the single leaf. One drops to the dirt below, and Iruka scoops it up with one finger, bringing it closer to Kakashi’s eyes.

Kakashi immediately stumbles backwards. “W-What are you doing?” he stammers, watching as the bug crawls around the tip of Iruka’s finger.

“Afraid of bugs?” Iruka asks lightly, holding the end of his scissors up to his finger, transferring the bug to the blade.

“No,” Kakashi mutters, but he swallows back a nerve. He really isn’t afraid of bugs, but something about the almost glowing bug unsettled him, especially as he begins to notice colonies of the eerie thing surrounding the surfaces of nearly every rose on that bush. “Just…don’t shove it in my fucking face.”

“Do you know what they are?” Iruka asks him, eyes following the little bug as it crawls along the edge of the blade. When Kakashi does not respond, he continues, “They’re called aphids. A very common garden pest. Do you know what they do?”

Kakashi feels the skin on his arms begin to itch as he watches the bugs coagulate. “Iruka, I don’t care about what they do—”

“They pierce the surface of its host plant to suck from its phloem, depriving the plant of its energy,” Iruka begins anyways, moving to cup the infested roses once more. He takes a bundle into his hand, squeezing them together despite the thorns. “At the same time, aphids inject their saliva, too, potentially transferring viruses from one plant to another.” Iruka pauses, staring up at Kakashi with expectant eyes. “Can you hold these in place for me?”

Kakashi finds that he is unable to respond. He holds his hand out and wraps it around the bundle of roses, gripping it lightly as to avoid the thorns. He cringes a bit as he feels the aphids brush against his skin, what looks like millions of them frazzled from the disturbance.

Iruka smiles at him. “Phloem pumps sugar through plants, so you can imagine how intense the aphid’s diet is. As waste, aphids excrete an extremely sweet and sticky substance, attracting other garden pests into the fray. You see, aphids are extremely stubborn,” he explains, fingers fanning through the petals of one of the roses. A few of the green insects drop from the force. Kakashi feels his stomach begin to stir at the image. “In order to survive, they reproduce like crazy. Multiplying and multiplying and multiplying, until they’re practically unstoppable.” Iruka takes his scissors, tracing the tip against a small thorn near the base of the rose. Kakashi watches him wearily. “They become too overwhelming, too overbearing, too difficult to deal with as they slowly drain the life out of the roses, lilies, daisies, of any pretty flower you surround yourself with. They’re quiet and impossibly small, so you don’t notice them, but once you do, it’s far too late. They have completely taken over the flower, drained it of its life, and there is nothing left to do—” Iruka suddenly cuts the bundle at the stems just above Kakashi’s fingers, and the older flinches backwards in reflex, skin tingling, “—but to chop it right off.”

Kakashi’s eyes follow as the roses fall to the ground, toppling over one another, little green bugs scattering in all directions. He steps backwards subconsciously, avoiding the chaotic swarm. His hands clench into fists at his sides, his body beginning to shake as images of willow trees dispersing into fogs of aphids swirl before his very eyes. “Why did you want me to come here?” he demands in a shaky voice, but he tries to maintain a strong conviction, eyes hardened as he stares harshly at the younger male.

Iruka lets the scissors slip from his fingers and drop to the floor with a clank, joining the pool of dismembered roses. “People are like flowers,” he says, back facing the other student as his hand brushes against the parts of the bush that had been left untouched. “They’re colorful, beautiful, and resilient, always growing towards any source of light. But all it takes it one bug, one small bug, and like these roses—” A ghost of a smile appears on his lips, _“—you’ll fall apart.”_

Kakashi feels his heart plummet in his chest, suddenly finding it difficult to breathe in the enclosed space. The plants around him seem to surround him like chords, waiting to tie him back, keep him in place, and trap him here with those aphids, those roses, and the scissors that shine under the sunlight.

-

Obito takes in a deep breath to calm his nerves as he enters the main office, meeting eyes with the front desk awkwardly, the lady giving him a nod of acknowledgement. Obito tries to remember her name, but he can’t despite almost spending half of his high school career in the office for various punishments. She presses a few keys on her computer before gesturing towards the principal’s office.

His mind wanders off to Kakashi momentarily as he stares at the door. The call to the office was convenient for Kakashi, that’s for sure, but for Obito, he couldn’t help but feel a little hurt that Kakashi was so against him joining him. _I’d rather you not spend so much time around me for a little while._ The statement confuses Obito the more and more he thinks about it. They are friends, aren’t they? Why shouldn’t they spend so much time around each other? Did he do something?

His heart skips a little when he recalls his phone call with Genma. He hadn’t told Kakashi the news he had discovered out of fear of how the younger would react. Obito knew that if he told Kakashi that Genma _coincidentally_ found out info about Iruka, Kakashi would never believe him. He’d know immediately that Obito was sharing information about Kakashi’s life with the class president. Obito wasn’t sure how Kakashi would react to knowing that Genma had been prying into his life, and that Obito played a huge role in it as well.

Obito had tried his best to help Kakashi avoid Iruka without outwardly saying it. He began driving the younger back home more often so that he didn’t have to take the bus. He spent every minute of lunch with him just to ensure that no matter where he went, Iruka wouldn’t dare come near. He has yet to see what the guy’s face looks like, but he supposes that should be a good sign. And Kakashi hasn’t mentioned the stalker since their talk on the rooftop a month ago.

But _right._ Principal’s office. He tries once more to think of any mistakes he might have made, but he cannot come up with even one.

After another deep breath, Obito opens the door, entering the principal’s office uncertainly. He’s surprised when he sees Genma there, sitting in one of the chairs and looking absolutely _mortified._

Obito immediately knows that something is off.

“Obito,” the principal greets him solemnly, “have a seat.”

The student does as told, wordlessly seating himself next to the class president, who avoids his eyes. “I didn’t do anything,” Obito murmurs thoughtlessly, which earns a pointed look from the principal.

“I know you didn’t,” the principal says with a tired sigh. Obito feels even more confused. “Yes, I know, it came as a surprise to all of us. It isn’t you, Mr. Uchiha, who is in trouble this time, but Mr. _Shiranui.”_

Obito’s eyes widen ever so slightly as he glances once more at Genma, the younger student giving him a wary look. “Uh, then why am I here?” Obito questions, wiping his sweaty palms against his lap. The fact that Genma, _perfect-class-president-school-role-model-teacher’s-pet-Shiranui-Genma_ got in trouble makes him feel a bit unnerved. “If I didn’t do anything wrong, I mean?”

The principal lets out another sigh, this time of disappointment as he looks over at Genma. The student only seems to sink further into his seat. “Mr. Shiranui over here has been caught snooping around the nurse’s files,” the principal explains, shuffling through some papers on his desk. “It appears as though he might have seen some private information about you.”

Obito glances over at Genma, the revelation only managing to confuse him more. “What?” he says dumbly, because he isn’t sure he’s following.

Genma lets out a sigh beside him. The principal seems to share the aggravation. “Genma’s actions are a direct violation of both the school’s code and _your_ privacy,” he clarifies before holding a file out in Obito’s direction. “This is what he saw.”

Obito takes the file, reading his name on the cover before opening it. He stares down at his personal information, from his family to his blood type to his vaccinations, every recorded sickness, every recorded injury, including the most recent one with Kakashi are filed together into one folder. Obito frowns, glancing over at Genma briefly before turning to face the principal. “What do I do with this?” he asks, and only as he says it does he realize how clueless he sounds. But he really is. Obito didn’t have anything on his records that most people didn’t already know. Genma definitely knew. What confuses him most here is _why_ Genma even bothered to look at _Obito’s_ records of all people.

The principal takes the file back, storing it somewhere behind his desk and giving Obito a look of exhaustion. “Since it was _your_ information he saw, it is my responsibility to inform you of what has happened. I’ve tried contacting your parents to talk to them about it first, but neither of them responded.” Obito rolls his eyes. “I assure you that Genma will be appropriately punished for his actions, but I would like to know what _you_ would like to be done about this situation.”

Obito is even more lost. “I don’t know?” He glances over at Genma, who suddenly looks as if he’s suppressing the urge to laugh. “What am I supposed to say?”

“He’s asking if you want to press charges,” Genma tells him, and he can see a hint of amusement in the younger student’s eyes.

“Oh,” Obito utters. “No.”

The principal raises an eyebrow. “No? Are you sure?”

“Uh, yeah,” Obito answers with a nod of affirmation. “Doesn’t matter much to me what he saw.”

The principal looks baffled by his response. “I don’t believe you understand—”

“Listen,” Obito says, “I don’t really get what’s going on, but if legal stuff is involved, you might as well call my fucking parents again. They can deal with that. I don’t give a shit.” And he knows his parents won’t either. When the principal still doesn’t seem convinced, he sighs. “Plus, Genma’s my friend. I guess. I mean it sucks that he looked at my shit without me knowing, but in the end, it’s not like there was any stuff in there that he didn’t already know.”

The principal scrutinizes him for a little longer before letting out a defeated sigh. “If that pleases you, Obito,” he mumbles, clearly even more disappointed in both students than he already was before. “Genma, we’ve already discussed your punishment,” he says, and Genma merely nods. “You two are dismissed.”

Genma bows his head in an apologetic manner. “Again, I am truly sorry for what I have done. I won’t do it again, sir.”

The principal merely shakes his head, waving them off and turning to make a phone call. Genma gives Obito a look before getting up to leave the room.

It isn’t until they’re outside and in the middle of the hallway when Obito says anything. “What the fuck, dude?”

Genma turns around, staring at Obito for a moment before grabbing his arm and pulling him into a nearby bathroom. Genma leans against the door, keeping it shut as he briefly gives Obito an amused look. “Watching you try to understand things is more fun than I thought it’d be.”

“Fuck off,” Obito utters. “But why the hell were you looking through _my_ medical files of all things?”

Genma purses his lips. _“I wasn’t,”_ he denies, crosses his arms over his chest. Obito gives him a look of question. “It was just a cover-up. I did find your file but I kept it to the side. I didn’t even open it.”

“What were you doing then that you needed some weird cover-up?” Obito questions him, growing more and more frustrated with his own confusion. “Can you just spill it all at once before I fucking explode? I feel like today has just been one big confusing blur.” _First history class, then Kakashi not wanting to hang out, then Genma being uncharacteristically cryptic._ “I’m tired of thinking, man, and we’re only halfway done with school today.”

Genma rolls his eyes, but he nods his head. “Yeah. I wasn’t looking at your files. I didn’t even mean to look at anyone’s files when I was at the nurse’s. I was there for a headache when the nurse left the room. I don’t know how long she was gone, but I got bored as shit waiting for her and decided to look around for some aspirins myself,” he explains, recounting the story as Obito listens in mild interest. “I was opening cabinets and shit and found a shit ton of files on a shit ton of students. I know I shouldn’t have looked, but I saw Kakashi’s name.”

Obito’s eyes slowly widen as realization finally hits him. “You fucking didn’t.” _That’s why he needed a cover-up._

“I did,” Genma mutters. “I couldn’t help myself. I know it was a douche move and I think even _you_ understand what that means.”

“Well, what the fuck did it say?” Obito asks him a bit more eagerly than he intended, and now he understands why the principal was so confused when Obito barely reacted. Obito wouldn’t have liked it either if someone shared private information about him with anyone else, but he can’t help it. _He needs to know._

Genma immediately looks uncomfortable. “It’s not right,” he says regrettably. “I already got caught, dude, I don’t think I’m in the place to share that information with you. The only reason I’m letting you know this is because you happened to be my cover-up. I don’t know what they would have done to me, or what Kakashi would have done to me if they saw that I was looking at _his_ files. So you were just a convenient scapegoat, kind of.”

“Please?” Obito says, and Genma shakes his head in disapproval. _“Please,_ Genma,” Obito begs him again. “I know that you probably found something valuable in his records, something that’ll make his behavior make sense. I just want to know what’s wrong so I can learn how I can… _help_ him or…be there for him, I don’t know.”

Genma raises an eyebrow. “That’s surprisingly considerate of you. Didn’t you punch this kid in the face?”

“He’s important to me, man,” Obito finds himself saying, slightly surprised by his own admittance, but he doesn’t bother to take it back. “I want to be able to understand him.”

Genma gives him a weary look before letting out a sigh of defeat. “Fine,” he utters. “You’re fucking lucky. I’ll only tell you because I think you actually _can_ help him. You’re just about the only person he ever talks to, and the only person who seems to give a shit about him. Now that I know his problem, I think he’ll need someone like that at a place like this more than anything else.”

“Can you just _tell_ me already, then?” Obito asks, already tired of the anticipation.

Genma snorts at Obito’s impatience but nods his head anyways. “The first thing I found was a prescription. It was a prescription for antipsychotics,” he says in a low voice, as if afraid anyone else would hear them in this empty bathroom. “Then when I looked further, I found a note from his psychiatrist explaining his previous psychotic episodes. Dating all the way back to almost two years ago.”

Obito’s heart pounds in his chest as he thinks about Kakashi’s nightmares, the parties, their conversation on the roof, things beginning to click into place as more and more pieces began forming. “No fucking way.”

“He’s been having them for a little over a year now, man,” Genma finishes, a pitiful look in his eyes, and Obito suddenly forgets how to breathe. “They diagnosed him with schizophrenia only a couple of months before he dropped out.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There was supposed to be an entire chapter that involved the school dance, but I ended up scrapping it because Kakashi’s experience at the dance was very similar to his experience at Genma's party, which would’ve made it feel like a carbon copy of chapter 4 lol. Anyways I hope you guys like how their relationship is developing <3


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: This chapter includes a graphic scene that involves self harm. I marked its beginning with a (***) just in case.

Kakashi sniffs, brushing his fingers through his hair as he walks to his kitchen in the middle of the night, eyes heavy yet refusing to fall asleep. He couldn’t, not after the confrontation with Iruka. Every time he closed his eyes, he could see those aphids crawling over the inside of his eyelids, creeping up his arms, piercing his skin, beating their underdeveloped wings.

He had his uncle pick him up immediately after lunch. There was no way he’d get through the rest of the school day like that. Obito had texted him about his whereabouts but Kakashi again did not respond, unable to come up with a valid excuse that wouldn’t scare the older male away.

A sigh escapes Kakashi’s lips as he opens his fridge, searching around for any leftovers to eat while he waits for the sun to come up again. When he finds nothing, he searches the cabinets next, taking out a new, sealed box filled with cup noodles. As he searches around for some scissors, his mind drifts back to their conversation in the park, and he feels his cheeks warm a bit, guilt sinking in his shoulders. Obito means more to him than he originally realized, and the desire to be near him all of the time is almost _embarrassing._ Kakashi really meant it when he said that they shouldn’t spend so much time around each other. It was changing him. It was changing _them,_ and Kakashi wasn’t sure whether or not to embrace the change or fear it.

His mind then wanders off to his conversation with Obito earlier that day. He couldn’t have Obito come with him to the greenhouse like he wished. Kakashi didn’t want Obito to see Iruka, or rather _Iruka_ to see Obito. He couldn’t put the older male in danger like that. Obito already had enough problems, and Kakashi didn’t know what Iruka wanted.

Kakashi finds some scissors in a drawer, pulling them out and setting them by the box of cup noodles. He picks the pair of scissors up before tearing the blade through the duct tape carefully, watching as the box slowly releases its pressure. He catches a glimmer of moonlight through the metal of the blade, and the color red seems to flash before his eyes. When the box opens, roses stare back up at him.

_He doesn’t care about you._

(***)

Kakashi feels his blood go cold, unable to move as he stares down at the box of roses, at the thornless stems, at the withered leaves littering the corners. A small green bug slowly crawls up from between the flushed petals. 

_He’ll throw you away, just like everyone else._

Kakashi feels his skin itch, his arms tensing at the invasive feeling. He stares down, alarmed as aphids spread across his forearms, the tiny green bugs nestling together and prodding at his skin. Kakashi inhales sharply, scratching at his arms and scraping the bugs away, watching them fall to the ground like rain, bunching up into glowing masses and scattering across the kitchen tiles. He continues to scratch at his arms, feeling his nails dig into his skin, flesh rising and red from the consistent and rough pressure. The aphids continue to fall, and the roses continue to stare.

He feels a presence behind him, and Kakashi’s breath hitches in his chest.

 _“You aren’t worth his time,”_ Iruka whispers just behind his ear, and Kakashi whips around, coming face to face with the other male. His eyes are narrow, passive, _merciless_ as they bore into Kakashi’s own. “He’ll leave you, he’ll push you away and forget all about you.” There’s a smile on his face once more, and like the blade, his teeth seem to reflect the moonlight. “Just like your parents. Just like your brother. Just like every other person who ever bothered to learn your name.”

Kakashi finds that he is unable to form any words, backing up against the counter behind him, his elbow nudging the scissors. The tool falls to the ground where it crushes a mob of aphids, a scurry of lime swirling across his kitchen floor in panic and fury.

“Just look at you,” Iruka sneers, and just behind him Kakashi meets eyes with his own reflection in the small mirror on the wall. “No one knows who you are. No one cares who you are. You’re not Hatake Kakashi, you’re a _freak, insane,_ you nearly _killed_ that guy that night, an innocent guy. An innocent guy, just like your brother—”

 _“Stop,”_ Kakashi finally finds his voice, but it sounds like a whimper as he grips the end of the counter. Frustration bites his tongue as he moves to scratch at his arms again, the itch burning, but the bugs continue to scatter across his arms. Kakashi lets out a cry, nails drawing blood as he pries the aphids off, their needles tearing from his skin as if ripping hair from its follicle. He scratches furiously, ignoring the burns as he watches the insects fall, ignoring the faint trails of blood staining his marred skin.

He lets out a small sigh of relief when the last aphid finally falls off, joining the colony on the kitchen floor, rustling together and huddling against the red petals littering the ground.

 _“It’s too late,”_ Iruka sings, breaking him out of his brief peace. When Kakashi looks back up, Iruka is no longer in front of him, but right by his side. _“It’s too late,”_ he says again, “They have completely taken over. They have drained you, the beautiful and resilient rose that grows towards _any_ light that gives him the right amount of attention. _Obito,_ right?” Kakashi’s eyes widen. “Your faint source of light, the only other worthless kid in the damn school.” Iruka laughs. “Drained and drained and drained, you’ll drain _him,_ too, until there is nothing else left to do—” Iruka picks up the scissors briefly, inspecting it under the moonlight. Kakashi’s gaze falls back to his arms, watching as his pores seem to grow, little bubbles forming in his skin, moving, kicking, crawling from within. Iruka drops the scissors once more, the pair dropping to the ground with a clank, snapping Kakashi out of his reverie, _“—Chop it_ right off.”

Kakashi falls to his hands and knees, gagging out in disgust as he stumbles for the scissors. He huddles back against the corner of the kitchen, scratching vigorously at his arms as tears begin to brim his eyes. Kakashi pulls the scissors open, dragging its blade across his skin, tissues ripping, watching through blurry eyes as darkened red and green flow from each incision. Antennae peek from between the cuts, little legs squirming, struggling to break free from his flesh with the others. Some seem to drown as they cast through his blood. _“Get out,”_ Kakashi gasps, pressure increasing around the grip as he cuts through his skin, releasing more and more aphids and watching as their little bodies flow from his wounds and scurry across his body and onto the kitchen floor. _“Get out, get out, get out!”_ he screams before dropping the scissors in a fit of coughs, his arms searing with pain as he falls to his side. He is unable to tear his gaze away as millions of insects scurry across the floor.

 _“Kakashi!”_ he hears his name and a loud bang, feels the heavy footsteps as they run across the apartment. “Kakashi!”

Iruka crouches down by his head, whispering into his ear, “You’ll never get rid of them. They’ll always be there.” Kakashi clasps his hands over his ears, unable to bear anymore. “They’re inside of you, a part of you.” Kakashi bites his lip, watching through tears as aphids begin to crawl back up his skin, reentering through his cuts, his skin sucking them back up, welcoming them back into his bloodstream. “They’ll always be there, ready to drain and drain and drain you of everything. And there is nothing you can do, Kakashi, nothing you can do but _cut—”_

 _“Kakashi!”_ There are hands on his shoulders, pulling him back up from the ground, from the aphids, from the smears of blood and the scissors that catch the moonlight. “Come back to me! It’s me! I’m here!” Kakashi gazes blearily through the darkness, head feeling extremely faint, body as light as air.

 _Uncle,_ he tries to say, but his voice escapes him as he falls forward into a bed of roses.

-

“Obito?”

Obito glances up from his phone, meeting eyes with Izumi from across the bedroom. Curiosity crosses his features as he tilts his head at her in question. “What is it?”

Izumi fidgets in her place, twiddling her thumbs as she stands by his doorway. Her hair looks a little wet from the shower she had taken an hour ago, her pajamas looking freshly clean despite their age. “Are you…going to sleep?”

Obito frowns a bit, glancing at the screen of his phone for the time. “Uh…” He gives her a sheepish look, unable to answer after realizing that it is already 1 AM, and he is still awake. Truthfully, he is unable to sleep. Not after the revelation about Kakashi. He wants to talk to him about it, but the younger won’t respond to his texts again, and he wonders if Kakashi is even awake to do so anymore.

Izumi bites her lip, nervousness evident in her features. “C-Can you?” she asks him, and Obito raises his eyebrows at her. “It’s…late.”

Obito stares at her for a moment, confused. _She wants me to sleep? Did I somehow wake her up by being awake, too?_ “Sorry, Izumi, I didn’t mean to worry you,” he says with an apologetic smile. “I’ll go to sleep now.”

Izumi nods her head before speaking again, “And uhm…c-can I sleep…with you?”

Obito’s brows pull together in concern. His sister hasn’t asked to sleep in his bed for years now. And it had been over a horror movie they watched together. Worry pulls at his gut. “What’s wrong?” he asks her.

Izumi gives him an uncomfortable look, as if unable to come up with the words. “I just have a bad feeling about tonight,” she finally says, and the way she says it sends chills down Obito’s spine.

He shifts to the farthest side of his bed, making room for her to join. “Come on,” he says, inviting her over with a small gesture. Izumi gives him a shaky but grateful smile, moving quickly across the room and settling in bed next to him. Obito tries to meet Izumi’s eyes, wondering what’s wrong, but the girl avoids his gaze.

“Thanks, Obito,” she whispers as Obito turns off the light. “I love you.”

Obito stares up into the darkness, feeling as Izumi links their hands together beneath the blankets. “I love you, too,” he murmurs, and he closes his eyes, concentrating on the sounds of her soft breathing.

Just as he feels himself finally falling asleep, he hears footsteps outside of his bedroom.

-

Obito makes sure Izumi is still asleep before he slips out of bed.

His father hadn’t come home that night yet, so he immediately knows that it must be him. Obito is honestly exhausted, but he was tired of wondering where his father disappeared to all of the time. Late at night might not be the greatest time to interrogate someone, but he couldn’t have Izumi listening in on them. It was best that she stayed asleep throughout the entire ordeal.

Obito slowly crosses his room, careful to make as little noise as possible as to not wake his little sister up. He can still hear noises outside, and it sounds as if the door to Izumi’s bedroom from just across the hall is being opened. Obito pushes his own door and steps out into the hallway. He doesn’t see anyone at first, peering aimlessly through the darkness of his home. None of the lights is on, which Obito finds strange, but he figures that his father assumed they were asleep anyways.

The door to Izumi’s bedroom is only slightly open. Obito frowns as he approaches the door. “Dad?” he calls out into the darkness, hand against the door. When he hears no movement, he allows himself in, glancing around for any signs of his father. “Dad?” he says again, but still no answer.

Obito flips the light switch on, confusion overtaking him when he sees no one else in the bedroom but himself. Izumi’s bed is made, no signs of life or any indications that his father had just been in there. He frowns, wondering if he was just hearing things. It was late at night, after all, and Obito wasn’t exactly wide awake.

He scratches the back of his neck, glancing outside Izumi’s window. His eyes fall onto the moon, bright and white against the blackened night. He shivers a bit at the eerie silence, deciding that he should probably go to sleep. A soft sigh escapes his lips as he steps towards Izumi’s bed, moving to grab the girl’s favorite stuffed animal from its seat on her pillows when he hears the door close behind him.

Obito immediately turns around, only to come face to face with the barrel of a gun.

“Don’t move,” the intruder says, and Obito can feel his head going light as he struggles to make sense of the situation. He meets eyes with the man, unable to recognize his face, his blood immediately turning to ice as his heart begins to pick up. “Don’t make a sound,” his voice is low but demanding, and Obito finds that he cannot find it in him to speak anyways. He’s frozen in place, unable to look away from the gun that is pointed between his eyes.

“Is anyone else home?” the man asks, eyes unreadable as he stares into Obito’s. “Don’t lie to me.”

Obito’s mind jumps back to Izumi, the girl still asleep in his room, safely tucked beneath his comforters. He feels his heart begin to race, the fear of her being found consuming him almost as much as the feeling of being held at gunpoint. _This can’t be happening, this can’t be fucking happening._ For the first time in Obito’s life, he’s too afraid to move, _petrified,_ unable to do anything as his life hangs in this stranger’s hand. It crosses Obito’s mind that _he can die,_ that _Izumi can die,_ and he can feel his body begin to shake in absolute fear.

But he can’t let him see Izumi. He has to keep her safe.

Obito swallows down a lump in his throat before giving the man a stiff nod. His eyes trail over to the closed door for a moment before they fall back onto the intruder.

The man observes him for a moment, as if considering his answer. Seconds of tense silence go by, Obito holding his breath as he hopes, _prays_ that this man believes him. A light smile suddenly appears on the gunman’s face, but he doesn’t lower the weapon. “I’ll let you speak, but only to tell me your name.” There’s something close to amusement in his tone, and Obito realizes that the sick fucker is _enjoying_ this.

“Uchiha Obito,” he breathes despite his pride, resisting the urge to shiver at the man’s smile. He can hear his heart deeply pounding in his chest, his skin rising as a cold sweat forms on his forehead. He isn’t sure where to look anymore, the gun or the man or _anywhere_ else. But he’s afraid that if he looks away, the man will pull the trigger.

“You must be his kid,” he says, a hint of interest in his tone, and Obito tenses at the mention of his father. “Didn’t know he had a son.” Obito subconsciously clenches his fists a little at his sides, and the man catches the action, an amused look in his eyes. “I take it you don’t like him very much?”

Obito does not bother to reply, to which the man lets out a laugh. He’s sure that even the intruder can hear how hard his heart is pounding at this point, but the man’s laughter is like a slap to the face. Never in Obito’s life had he ever felt so small, and he’s so used to being kicked to the side like dirt. The fact that he can _die here,_ actually _die,_ has him thinking about his childhood, to the days he spent hiding behind his parents’ legs, shy and afraid of the world. Then he remembers Izumi, and how she looks to him for protection, how she hides behind his legs.

He lets out a shaky breath and hopes to god that Izumi doesn’t wake up. He hopes to god that he’ll make it out of here _alive._ If Obito goes, Izumi would have no one else left.

“Where is he?” the man asks him, tone still light and calculating. “We haven’t heard from him in _weeks.”_ We, the noun repeats itself in Obito’s mind, wondering who in the hell we referred to.

Obito isn’t sure what to say, isn’t sure if he’s even _allowed_ to speak. He feels his throat go dry as he swallows, and his eyes fall back onto the man’s own. All thought seems to escape his mind as he finds himself unable to look away, captured by those emotionless eyes.

When Obito doesn’t move, the man suddenly shoots, the unmistakable bang of the gun ripping through the silence of the house. Obito’s ears pop, his breath escaping his lungs as he collapses to his knees from the petrifying noise. _He shot, he shot, he actually shot,_ Obito thinks frantically to himself. _It’s real, this is real, this is actually fucking happening._ He could have _died,_ the thought repeats itself over and over, matching the ringing in his ears, a sound so overbearing that he almost doesn’t register the man’s next words. “I won’t ask again,” he utters as he presses the barrel against Obito’s forehead, forcing the teen to shakily look up. He can feel the heat from the previous round burn against his skin, his chest heaving in absolute terror.

“I-I don’t know,” Obito finally croaks, and his thoughts immediately drift back to Izumi, to the new bullet hole in her wall behind him, to how there was _no way_ she didn’t hear that. His ears feel as if they are bleeding, every ounce of his body shaking. “He didn’t come home tonight, I-I really don’t know.” He hopes to every fucking god out there that Izumi does not leave his bedroom. He can’t let this man see her. He briefly wonders if the man is even alone, and his heart skips at the possibility of Izumi being discovered by someone else.

Obito does not have enough time to think that scenario over more as the man lets out a scoff, unceremoniously lowering the gun. “Great,” he mutters mostly to himself, giving Obito a disinterested glance. “That’s just fucking great.” The man stares down at the pink rug below him, kicking away some dust before looking back up. “Where does he keep his money?”

 _Money?_ Obito has to bite back the urge to retort, fully knowing that his father is broke, and that there is no money in the house to take. It’s absolutely pathetic. “I don’t know,” he answers instead, eyeing the gun at the man’s side wearily, still too afraid to even move. “I’m sorry, I don’t know.”

The man stares at the teen for a moment before letting out a humorless laugh. “You don’t know _anything,_ do you?” He crouches down to Obito’s level, staring closely at the teen with scrutinizing eyes. “You tell your dad that if he doesn’t get us our money by January, it’ll be his _life.”_ Obito swallows, forcing himself to nod once more. The man smiles condescendingly, slowly tracing the tip of his gun against the teen's jaw. “And if you tell anyone about this meeting, I’ll have that little sister of yours.”

Obito’s eyes widen at the mention of Izumi, and he suddenly finds it difficult to breathe.

The man smirks, watching in sick amusement as Obito consumes his words. “She’s awfully cute, going to her big brother for comfort from the big bad monsters of the night.” Obito’s eyes widen as dread slowly comes over him. _How long had this man been in their house?_ The stranger’s grin only widens as he sees the realization in Obito’s eyes. “What did she say again? _She had a bad feeling about tonight?”_ the man taunts, cackling before getting up and turning to leave the room. Obito’s stomach drops, and he begins to feel sick, the idea that the man had already been in their house making him lightheaded. _He saw Izumi. He knew Izumi was here. He knew all along._

“Remember what I said,” the man breaks him out of his thoughts, gesturing towards the wall behind Obito, and Obito finally glances behind his shoulder to see the defined bullet hole in the pink surface of Izumi’s room. “Next time, I won’t miss.”

Obito feels his skin crawl as the man finally leaves the room. He does not move until he hears the front door open and close, and he does not leave Izumi’s bedroom until he can feel his limbs again. A million questions race through his head, mainly revolving around his _father_ and what that bastard could have possibly done to warrant attention like this. His movements are still shaky as he struggles to return to his bedroom, and as he opens to the door, he comes face to face with a petrified Izumi. Obito’s heart sinks to the bottom of his chest.

_She heard them._

She immediately runs into Obito’s arms, sobs wracking her body as she whispers her fears, and Obito cannot do anything more but listen.

-

Kakashi stares down at the bandages around his wrists silently, moving through the halls of the school as slowly as possible. He rubs his fingers gently over the scars on his knuckles, and a bitter smile graces his lips before he rolls his sleeves back down.

_Just as self-destructive as usual._

Kakashi grits his teeth.

_Why do you even try anymore? Why don’t you just accept the fact that you’ll never be like one of them?_

He feels his nails dig into the palms of his hands as he clenches his fists.

_You just end up hurting other people every time you try. You don’t belong here. You don’t belong anywhere._

“Shut up,” Kakashi mutters, ignoring the startled look a passing student gives him. 

_It’s useless to try. They don’t want you here._

Kakashi throws the door to his first class open, surprising the one other student in the classroom. He’s fairly early today, unable to really fall asleep after his episode. His uncle had insisted that he stayed at home instead of going to school, but Kakashi knew he couldn’t keep skipping like this. Not if he wanted to pass. He could only get away with so much, he knew, even despite his circumstances.

Kakashi seats himself in the farthest corner of the classroom, burying his face into his arms. He tries his best to drown out the whispers in his head, instead focusing on his own breathing, his own heartbeat, his _own_ thoughts.

He doesn’t lift his head until he hears someone drop into the empty desk next to him, and there sits Obito. Kakashi feels his heart skip a little, and he silently curses himself for feeling so ridiculous. Lately every time Obito came near, he’d get a strange feeling in his chest, one that at times felt more suffocating than it should. But he pauses when he notices how… _on edge_ …the older male seems.

Kakashi raises a curious eyebrow, taking in his disheveled appearance, the dark rings beneath Obito’s eyes, and the uncharacteristic paleness of his skin. For a moment, his mind seems to quiet down, and all Kakashi can think about is Obito.

He briefly thinks back to their conversation the previous day, regretting telling the older male to leave him alone. Just seeing how terrible Obito looks makes Kakashi feel guilty for neglecting his company. _What happened with the principal?_ He traces his fingers against the scars on his knuckles again before glancing back at the older male, wondering if he has any right to ask. But the dark look in Obito’s eyes makes him worry.

“Hey,” Kakashi mutters to the older student. “What’s up?”

Obito does not look away from the board, and upon closer inspection, Kakashi can see how bloodshot his eyes are. He wonders if the older male got any sleep last night, and Kakashi briefly wonders what he might look like right now.

“Obito,” Kakashi tries again, a little louder this time, and Obito finally removes his gaze from the front to stare at the younger male. Kakashi pauses in surprise before giving him an unsure smile. “Are you okay?”

Obito looks away again. “Fucking fantastic,” he utters. Kakashi flinches at the coldness of his tone. He glances up and notices that the one other student in the room had been watching them. It takes one sharp glare, and the random student leaves the room. Both Kakashi and Obito watch as the girl leaves the room with bated breaths, tension evident in the air.

As soon as the classroom door closes, Kakashi speaks, “What’s wrong?”

Obito stares at Kakashi for a moment, and Kakashi is again caught off guard by how _exhausted_ the older male looks. “Didn’t you say that we shouldn’t spend so much time around each other or something?”

Kakashi bites his lips, cringing at the reminder of his harsh words, regretting it the more and more he thought about it. “I…didn’t mean it,” Kakashi half lies, rubbing his shoulder uncomfortably. He hadn’t meant it in the way Obito seemed to interpret it, rather he had felt that the strange feeling in his chest was a bit too overbearing, and he couldn’t handle being with Obito any longer that day than necessary. He also did not want Obito to follow him to the green house. Perhaps he should have told Obito the truth. “I just wanted to be alone.”

Obito scoffs, shaking his head. “Figures,” he utters, tone dripping with venom that Kakashi had never heard in the older male’s voice before. “I guess that’s why you didn’t answer my fucking calls, either.”

Kakashi frowns, hand subconsciously landing on his wrist as he thinks back to the previous night. He had noticed Obito’s calls after his uncle had calmed him down and patched him back up, but it was so late at night that he didn’t think it was appropriate to call him back. Kakashi couldn’t come up with a good excuse for as to why he had disappeared again without risking anything.

“No excuses?” Obito breaks him out of his thoughts. “If I knew how much you didn’t fucking care about me, I wouldn’t have bothered to call you.”

Kakashi pauses. “What the hell?” he says, staring at Obito in disbelief. “What are you talking about?” _Where is this coming from?_ Just because Kakashi didn’t answer his calls? Something is off about Obito, Kakashi can tell. _He wouldn’t just suddenly explode like this,_ Kakashi thinks. But then again, Kakashi hasn’t seen Obito so angry or aggressive since the day they first met.

Obito scoffs again, leaning back against his desk and training his eyes on the board ahead. “Nothing. It doesn’t fucking matter anymore. It’s not like you would have told me what was wrong even if you answered anyways.”

Kakashi grimaces at his accusatory tone, annoyance building up in his system. “That’s not fucking fair, Obito. I do care about you, you should know me better than that.”

Obito lets out a bitter laugh. “Do I, now?” His smile looks forced. “Sorry, I didn’t realize. I take back _everything_ I said.”

“You’re being a dick,” Kakashi warns, frowning at the older male. He chews on his bottom lip, considering his next words. _What is going on? What happened to him?_ “And I asked you how you were. Why do you look like you’ve been dragged through hell and back?” _Why is he so angry?_

_He’s mad at you._

Kakashi flinches, and he has to stop himself from growling back at the voice.

_He hates you now._

_He’s going to leave you._

_He’s going to forget all about you._

Obito grabs the pencil sitting on the end of his desk, mindlessly scratching into the desk. “I already told you, I’m great. Never better.” His words are so cold and strained that Kakashi isn’t sure how to approach him.

_He doesn’t want you. You’re nothing to him. You’re just extra weight that’ll drag him down. Give him up._

Kakashi grits his teeth. “You’re hiding something from me,” Kakashi says slowly, trying his best to remain his composure despite the taunts from within his head. He watches as the tip of Obito’s pencil snaps.

_He’s mad, he’s mad, he’s mad._

Obito lets the pencil fall from his fingers. “That’s fucking rich, coming from you.”

Things go quiet for a moment, and Kakashi gives Obito a look of confusion. “What?”

 _“You’re hiding something from me,”_ Obito echoes. “Don’t make me laugh. You’ve been hiding things from me since day _one.”_

 _He knows!_ They seem to laugh at him. _He knows! He knows and now he’s mad! He hates you! He knows and he hates you!_

Kakashi’s brows furrow together, but his hands clench together because he knows he’s been caught. The laughter increases in his mind at an almost deafening rate. “I haven’t,” he tries, but his voice sounds quiet, and when Obito gives him a tired look, he bites back his words. “It’s just…not something you really need to know.”

_He’s going to leave you! He’s going to throw you away!_

Obito laughs again, giving Kakashi a mockingly doubtful look. “Of course. Of course. Because I’m not important enough to know. I get it. I’m just some poor bastard with a shitty family and an even shittier attitude. Definitely not worth anyone’s time, much less Hatake Kakashi’s fucking _life.”_ Obito stands up from his seat with enough force that the chair rattles on its legs, stunning Kakashi into silence. “Silly me for thinking I was worth anything more than dirt on your goddamn shoes.”

Kakashi is stunned into silence, and the voices cackle again.

 _He’s leaving you! He’s throwing you away! You’re going to be alone again! All alone!_ He tastes iron on his tongue.

Kakashi stands up as well, blocking Obito’s path to the door when the older male tries to leave. His eyes are on the ground, frustration evident on his face as he attempts to formulate words, but the voices seem to place them on his tongue for him. He opens his mouth to speak and closes it again, irritation filling his system.

Obito’s words hurt, they really hurt, and combined with the unrelenting jeers in his head, it takes everything Kakashi has not to just punch the older male in the face. “You want to talk about _worth?_ About shitty families and shitty attitudes? Fucking _go for it,_ then,” he finds himself saying, and as soon as the words come out, he can’t stop himself. “It’s not like _my_ parents fucking hate me, it’s not like _my_ family’s fucking falling apart every day.”

_He doesn’t care about you! He never cared!_

Obito scoffs. “Am I supposed to feel sorry for you? Because your parents didn’t pay enough attention to you growing up? Because your younger brother is better than you? Well, _sorry_ if your little brother was mommy and daddy’s favorite little boy and not _you._ Jesus Christ, Kakashi, at least your parents are still around! I don’t even know where my mother is, or my father, and I don’t have a fucking uncle I can run to when I want to hide from all of my problems!”

_He’s right! He’s right! You’re nothing. You’re nothing but a coward. All you do is run, run, run._

Kakashi shoves Obito backwards, the older male bumping into the edge of a nearby desk. His head is beginning to throb. “You don’t know _shit_ about my brother, or me, _or_ how my parents _really_ treated me!” 

_Running, running, running._

Obito lets out a hysterical laugh. “You’re _right._ I don’t know shit about you. After all this time, after all the shit you’ve learned about me, I know next to _nothing_ about you. You don’t even trust me enough to tell me about your nightmares, or your brother, or _anything!_ Why the fuck should I trust _you,_ then?”

_You can’t trust him. He’s going to leave you. He’s going to forget all about you. Don’t trust him. Let him leave._

“I never fucking asked you to trust me,” Kakashi growls, but he can feel his eyes begin to burn out of frustration. He feels conflicted, but Kakashi _refuses_ to cry. Not now, not like this, not in front of Obito, but he can feel his composure slowly starting to unravel. “Don’t act like you didn’t have a choice, you didn’t have to tell me all of those things!”

 _Run!_ Kakashi lets out a shaky breath.

“You’re fucking kidding me, right?” Obito is beginning to sound more and more irritated as he speaks. “I didn’t _have_ to? After you pried me for answers?” He scoffs. “That’s not what I’m mad about anyways. I don’t even _care_ that I told you all of those things, what I care about is that you haven’t told me shit! You learn _my_ biggest secrets, but I don’t get to learn _yours?”_

_You can’t trust him, you can’t trust anyone. He’ll use it against you, he’ll use everything against you._

“You’re a _child,”_ Kakashi snaps, arms tensing by his sides. “You can’t expect me to tell you every aspect of my life just because you tell me every aspect of _yours.”_

_Leave him! Leave him before he leaves you!_

“I don’t need to know every aspect of your life, I just want to know the things that count.”

_Run!_

“You already _know_ the things that count!” Kakashi counters, exasperated as he tries to make sense of all these words, his words, the voices, Obito’s words. _Too many, just too many._ “There’s nothing else that you need to know! I don’t get you!” Kakashi lets out a shout. “I don’t get anything at all!”

Obito seems caught off guard by his yell, but he scoffs again, looking more and more aggravated with their argument the longer it goes on. “I already know everything? Do I? Do I really know everything there is to know about Hatake Kakashi?”

Kakashi opens his mouth to retort, but he does not know what to say. _Does he know?_ he wonders briefly to himself.

_Of course he does._

Panic flashes briefly through his eyes. “What are you implying?”

_Of course he knows._

Obito glares at him, silent for a moment before suddenly shaking his head. “Nothing, nothing at all,” he murmurs, voice lowering as if he is backing off from the subject. “Forget it. I don’t give a shit anymore. You were right, maybe we shouldn’t hang around each other anymore.”

Obito moves around him to again make it towards the door, Kakashi unable to move as his words ring in his head. His heart throbs painfully in his chest, the finality of the older male’s words feeling like a stake right through the middle.

 _He’s going to leave you. He’s going to leave you. He’s going to leave you. He’s leaving you._ Kakashi rubs furiously at his eyes, only making the burn worse before he turns around.

_Let him! Let him go!_

“So what now?” Kakashi demands despite his head, hands clenched together so hard he can feel his nails digging into his skin. “We’re not friends anymore? Everything we ever had just doesn’t matter? If you never want to see my fucking face anymore, then _say it.”_ His words sting his tongue. _Let him go! Let him go!_

Obito pauses by the door, hand hovering over its surface. Everything seems to go still. The air is thick with tension, neither student moving from their places, and for a moment, Kakashi thinks that this really is it for them. The voices laugh in his head, delighted with the outcome as realization sinks into Kakashi’s system. He begins to feel sick, stomach churning with dread and remorse. _Whatever friendship they had is over now,_ he thinks, his body beginning to shake as his worst fears are realized.

“Why don’t you trust me?”

And things go silent.

Kakashi blinks, gazing up at Obito, a dumbfounded look on his face. Obito had turned back around, eyes filled with so much pain and voice sounding so foreign that he almost didn’t recognize the older male.

“What?” is all Kakashi manages to say.

 _Don’t listen to him. Don’t let him get to you._ Kakashi closes his eyes for a moment, tired of the incessant ringing. _Fuck off._ He opens his eyes and stares back at Obito, watching his expressions carefully.

Obito lets out a shaky breath, running his hand through his hair. “Why don’t you trust me?” he repeats himself, voice sounding impossibly small, and Kakashi again is dumbstruck by his change in tone. “I mean, I know you don’t have to, but I feel fucking _pathetic,_ man.” Obito looks so conflicted, almost angry with himself, a sight that makes Kakashi’s own expression soften. “I barely know you, but I actually trust you. I don’t even know _why_ I do, it doesn’t make any sense to me. But it fucking hurts because you don’t seem to trust me at all.”

Kakashi feels his shoulders relax. “Of course I trust you, Obito,” he manages to say, even as the voices in his head scream in protest. _I don’t care,_ Kakashi thinks, _I’m not listening. I think I trust him. I think I—_

Obito gives him a sad smile. “No, you don’t.”

Kakashi is silent, eyes falling to his shoes as he considers his words. He remembers his ex-boyfriend for a moment, recalling his eyes and smile and voice and how similar he and Obito really seemed. He remembers why they broke up, how _this_ argument and the argument that led to his split felt so similar, and Kakashi realizes now that it’s _his fault._

Kakashi was so afraid of others leaving him, that he didn’t realize that he had been driving them away all along.

_Learn to trust someone else for once._

He remembers those words. They were Nagato’s.

The student lets out a small sigh, sliding into a nearby desk as exhaustion suddenly fills his system, but he knows that he cannot hide any longer. He’s tired of it, he decides.

“Tell me what you already know,” Kakashi says, and Obito glances at him in surprise. The younger student gives him a strained smile. “I’m not stupid, Obito. You wouldn’t be prying this hard unless you already knew something. Whatever you know, tell me.”

_He knows._

_I know._

_You should be angry._

_I know._

_Why aren’t you?_

Kakashi feels the corners of his lips lift. _Because I want to trust him._

Obito seems frozen in place for a moment, as if surprised with the younger’s words. He moves to the desk directly beside him, taking a seat cautiously. Obito seems to consider something, opening and closing his mouth as he struggles to speak. Kakashi watches him patiently, but he can feel his heart racing in his chest in anticipation. He knows what to expect, yet at the same time he doesn’t.

“I know that you were kicked out of your old school for violence. I know that you are – or you were – taking medications,” Obito finally says.

_He knows._

_But he cares. And that’s enough._

Kakashi leans back against his chair, crossing his arms over his chest. “Do you know what they are?” he asks. Obito hesitates, and Kakashi turns to look at him. “Just say it.”

“…Antipsychotics, right?” Obito asks, as if unsure. Kakashi feels his heart skip a beat, confirming that Obito knows everything. He had expected it and not expected it at the same time. It didn’t stop his nerves from tingling with mixed emotions.

Kakashi wonders how Obito had managed to find out so much information on him, and that familiar, bitter feeling returns. _Just a puzzle for everyone to solve._ He’s always hated that, and he knows that every student in both his old school and new school feels that way towards him as well. A part of him is disappointed that even Obito seemed to have fallen into that craze, but he supposes that it is partially his own fault for never telling Obito the truth. Out of all the people to figure him out, Obito is the only one Kakashi is okay with.

_You shouldn’t be._

_But I trust him._

Kakashi gives him a smile, though his heart continues to throb with pain. He decides that it is time to come clean. The voices scream in protest, but Kakashi does not want to hide from Obito any longer. “Yeah,” he answers. “Antipsychotics. Used to treat everything that is wrong with me. Paranoia, anxiety, delusions, hallucinations.” Kakashi stares down at the scars on his knuckles once again, and he bites his lip as he considers his next action.

 _Learn to trust someone else for once,_ Nagato’s voice rings again, and Kakashi pulls his sleeve up his arm, revealing his bandaged wrists. His uncle had taken care of the damage the previous night, and luckily Kakashi hadn’t cut too deep. His stare is blank as he pulls against the tip, loosening the bandage just enough to show the first cut, and he glances up at Obito for a second to gauge his reaction. The older male has a look of shock on his face, but he does not say anything.

“Last night was bad,” Kakashi states. “I’m used to anxiety, and even hallucinations, but the paranoia is what really gets to me. That feeling of being watched, that feeling that everyone can hear my thoughts, that feeling that everything I care about are lies that will just dissolve into nothing.” Kakashi recalls his insecurities, the roses, the aphids. “Last night had been one of the worst episodes I’ve had in a while. I always see things, _hear things_ that aren’t actually there, and I’ve learned to ignore most of them, or at least _live_ with them, but sometimes they become too much. The voices get too pervasive, too _aggressive_ that it’s hard to ignore, and the images are too terrifying to look away from. That’s how this happened.” Kakashi tugs his sleeve back down, rubbing over his arms.

Obito still does not say anything, but Kakashi is actually thankful for his silence. “I know what you’re probably thinking,” he continues. “Why did I stop taking my medications? Especially if my symptoms have been getting worse lately?” Kakashi lets out a sigh. “I guess there’s the notion that I _have_ to take them to function correctly. It’s such a terrible and oppressive thought, that I’m so _out of control_ of my own thoughts that I have to rely on daily pills to feel normal again. But that’s not it. I can get over something like that with time. I stopped because the ones I take now _don’t actually work.”_

Kakashi traces a finger over his sleeves, memories of his old school, his old house, his old life _before_ he moved here running through his head. “It hasn’t been long since they diagnosed me with schizophrenia even though it was clear that there was something wrong with me for a while, but that’s mainly my parents’ fault. They wouldn’t take me in for testing. They refused to believe that there was something wrong with me, even though for almost a year already, I had been having psychotic episodes. So I was given the wrong medications for the wrong symptoms, changing from one to another, misdiagnosing, et cetera, et cetera. I can’t exactly blame the doctors, they tried to do whatever they could to help me despite my parents’ incompetence.”

Kakashi shakes his head sadly. “But even though my meds never worked, the _side effects_ were definitely present. Shaking, depression, medications for the shaking and the depression. Nausea, headaches, I went through them all. My life was a constant nightmare for _months_ before my parents finally gave in. They took me in for tests and that’s when the news broke. But even _now,_ they refuse to take me back to change prescriptions, even when I tell them they’re not working. They think that the drugs will just make my symptoms magically disappear over time. They think I’m being dramatic or impatient, but I know for sure that the ones I have now don’t fucking work! I’ve waited _so long_ for them to work, but the paranoia is still there, everything is still there.” Kakashi pauses for a moment, spotting a familiar figure outside the window of the classroom. Iruka stands there, staring at him with his hands in his pockets, and Kakashi has to close his eyes for a moment to silence his heart.

He continues, “So I’ve stopped taking my current medications as some sort of little strike against them. To make them realize that _I need help,_ that they need to pull the sticks out of their asses and realize that all they have to fucking do is _listen to me._ But it’s backfiring hard, and I don’t…fucking know what to do anymore.” Kakashi stops himself from saying anything else, feeling his eyes well up again with that same frustration, anger that he had kept bottled up for so long, an anger that he hadn’t addressed since he moved in with his uncle.

He opens his eyes once more, glancing back outside the window, catching Iruka’s stare. “Iruka’s not real, I know he’s not,” he whispers, mainly to himself. “I figured that out a little too late, but…” Kakashi turns to Obito. “Even when you _know_ something isn’t real, that doesn’t change how real it _feels.”_ He laughs a little. “That probably doesn’t make sense, but…” They’re interrupted by the sound of the classroom door opening.

Mrs. Nara walks in, a stack of papers in her hands. She pauses at the doorway, giving the two males a curious glance. “Obito, Kakashi. You two are surprisingly early this morning.”

Kakashi looks back at Obito, mouth open a bit, unsure of what to say back to the woman. Obito’s eyes are unreadable as he gets up. He reaches forward and grabs Kakashi by the hand, pulling him out of the seat and out of the classroom, leaving a stunned and confused Mrs. Nara alone by the door. Kakashi does not say anything as he allows the older male to pull him through the halls, avoiding throngs of students getting to class. They arrive at a bathroom, and Obito opens the door for him, guiding the other student inside.

Kakashi comes face to face with his reflection through the mirror over the bathroom sink, and his breath catches a little when he sees the tear stains on his cheeks. He had been crying after all, without realizing it. Kakashi is torn out of his thoughts when he suddenly feels arms wrap around his shoulders. Obito buries his face into the crook of Kakashi’s neck, pulling him into a tight embrace from behind, and Kakashi is left with nothing to do but stare into the mirror in stunned silence.

“I’m sorry about everything I said,” Obito finally says, his warm breath on Kakashi’s neck sending shivers down his spine. “I’m sorry I forced you into this. I’m sorry I belittled you, and that I looked into your private life behind your back. I’m sorry I’m such a fucking asshole, and that your parents are fucking assholes, but _god dammit,_ Kakashi.” Kakashi gasps as he’s suddenly spun around, gaze ripping away from the mirror and instead landing on Obito’s own, the older male’s eyes so intense and… _honest._ “I’m here for you, no matter what. I just want you to know that you can tell me anything. _I’ll_ tell you anything. It’s a two-way thing. We’ll get through this together. _Your_ problems, _my_ problems, fuck, Kakashi, I don’t care what it is. I’m here for you. And don’t you ever fucking doubt that.” Obito lets out a deep breath. “I won’t ever leave your side.”

Kakashi’s breath catches. _I won’t ever leave your side._

He stares deeply into Obito’s eyes, noticing the way his pupils dilated, the almost pitch black of his irises, and for a second, he forgets his thoughts. He blinks, feeling warmth trail down his cheeks, and Kakashi realizes that he’s crying again. He opens his mouth to say something, _anything,_ but he cannot find the words. He doesn’t think, only holds Obito’s face between his fingertips, drawing their lips together in a soft kiss.

Not even a second passes before Kakashi realizes what he is doing, realizes _who_ he’s doing it with, and he pulls away, his cheeks flushing as he takes several steps back. _Shit._ Kakashi searches Obito’s face for a reaction, but the older male’s eyes are unreadable, body frozen in place.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know what came over me,” Kakashi blurts, shaking his head furiously. _You really fucking did it. You scared him away for good._ “Let’s just forget that ever happened—”

Obito finally lets out a laugh, and Kakashi stares at him in surprise. “That caught me off guard,” he says, low chuckles shaking his shoulders ever so slightly. “I was just about to say something, and then you just—”

“Don’t say it,” Kakashi grumbles, turning away in an attempt to hide his face, but when he sees himself in the mirror and how red he really is, he looks down into the sink instead. “Why did I do that?” he wonders out loud, mostly to himself. _Idiot, idiot, idiot._

Obito pulls him back by the shoulder, forcing Kakashi to look at him again. He stares into the younger’s eyes for a moment before his gaze suddenly fall to his lips. “I’m going to be honest with you,” Obito murmurs, seemingly distracted, “I’ve wanted to kiss you for a long time now.”

Kakashi blinks. “What?”

Obito grins. “Ever since that day on the roof. I thought it was because I was caught in the moment or something, but even after that…” He lets out another laugh. “Honestly, I’ve just been too afraid to even try.”

Kakashi feels his heart skip a beat, and in the silence between them, he finds that he can only hear his own voice. A smile forms across his lips, one that reaches his eyes, and it feels as if he’s walking on air. “Kiss me, then, you coward.” 

And Obito does.


	8. Chapter 8

Obito rolls his neck around his shoulders as he gets out of his car. He watches as Izumi slowly makes her way to their house, feet dragging on her way down the path. The older male purses his lips, locking his car and walking towards her, unlocking the door for her. Izumi does not say anything as she enters their small home, immediately heading towards her bedroom in silence.

For the past month, Obito had gotten used to leaving school after his final class and driving to pick Izumi up from hers. He refused to leave the younger girl alone in their home, not after that night, and much less with his father there, too. Obito had passed the threatening message on to his father, asked about the man, asked about who _“we”_ entailed, but his father only avoided his questions, detracted with that lifeless smile of his. His father showed no emotion, no change in confidence, or even fear. No reaction to the idea that his only son had been held at gunpoint, or that his only daughter’s life had been threatened.

Izumi has changed. She is much less energetic now. Her voice not as loud, her smile not as wide. Obito doesn’t know what to do about it. She had another night terror only a couple of nights ago, and it lasted longer than Obito had ever remembered. She would call for their mother, for their father, but Obito could do nothing but sit there and listen, sit there and watch.

Obito isn’t surprised to find that their father isn’t home as he walks around the empty halls. He catches sight of the dirty dishes in the sink, a low sigh escaping his lips at the thought of having to clean them. Obito is just about to turn around and go into his room when he notices his father’s open door across the hall. He stares at it, the dark room seeming so far away.

He swallows, feeling his curiosity grow. Obito has rarely been in his father’s room, or at least, past the door. Normally he would go in to check to see if the man was there, but he would never actually go _inside._ Obito would leave if his father was in there, or close the door and leave if his father wasn’t.

Before he knows it, Obito is standing by the door, gazing into the dark room in morbid curiosity. He leans inside, barely making out the sight of his father’s bed, desk, and closet. Obito feels against the wall for the light switch, turning it on and blinking as the room is suddenly bathed in light.

Obito’s face morphs into one of disgust. _What a fucking mess,_ he thinks as he stares from one pile of clothes to another. The bed is a mess, sheets halfway on and halfway off. The desk is filled with scattered papers and books, burying the keyboard to the computer whose screen is slightly cracked and stained with dust. The chair looks as if it’s going to fall apart, and the lamp in the corner of the room seems to flicker every few seconds. Obito isn’t even sure if he wants to go in anymore.

But he does, cringing when his shoes crunch into a pile of chips. He leans down and picks up the emptied bag of chips, crushing it into a ball and tossing it into the trash can in the corner. He lets out a huff when he misses, slowly trudging over to retrieve it.

He crouches down, picking the piece of trash back up and dropping it into the trash can. Obito briefly wonders why he even bothered to come into his father’s room as he stares down into the trash, noticing that the bin is filled to the brim with random papers, tissues, and receipts. Obito is just about to get up when something catches his eye.

The teen leans over the trash can, grimacing a bit as he brushes a couple of used tissues and papers to the side. He pauses when he catches the sight of black lines and numbers wrapped around a clear tube. Obito brushes a few more tissues aside before he can clearly see the object, and his eyes widen as he stares down into the trash can. _A syringe._

His thoughts seem to freeze for a moment before he hears his phone ring, the loud sound breaking him out of his trance. Obito glances back at the used syringe in the trash, his heart pounding roughly in his chest as his phone continues to ring. The student finally takes his phone out, pressing it against his ear without taking his eyes off of the incriminating object.

“H-Hello?” Obito utters, and he leans over the trash again, carefully pulling more tissues out, cautious of the needle.

 _“Hey, Obito,”_ he hears, and Obito pauses for a moment, recognizing Kakashi’s voice.

“Kakashi,” Obito greets, his voice softening ever so slightly, but he still sounds distracted. Normally he finds the other’s voice soothing, but Obito feels too occupied at the moment to think about that. He continues to shuffle through the trash, and to his shock he sees more and more syringes, some broken, some stained.

 _“Are you free right now?”_ Kakashi asks, momentarily bringing Obito back to reality. _“I want to see you again.”_

Obito steps away from the trash can, barely tossing the discarded tissues and papers back into it before hurrying out of the room. He turns off the light and shuts the door behind him, a little out of breath as the image of those syringes reappear in his mind. _Why were those there?_ What is his father doing?

Obito doesn’t realize he had zoned out until he hears the sounds of Kakashi’s confused voice. “Sorry, what?” Obito dumbly says, stepping away from his father’s door and heading into the living room.

 _“I asked if you were free.”_ Kakashi pauses. _“Are you okay? You sound a little winded.”_

Obito takes a seat on the couch, letting out a deep breath. “I’m…free, yes,” Obito finally answers before glancing up at Izumi’s closed door. “But my dad’s not home, and Izumi—”

 _“You can bring Izumi over if you want,”_ Kakashi tells him. _“We can go to the park or something. I don’t mind. But…seriously, are you okay? Did something happen?”_

Obito feels himself smile a little to himself. “I’ll meet you there,” he says instead of answering, getting up from the couch to approach Izumi’s room. “Probably in, like, twenty minutes.”

_“Don’t ignore my question.”_

“I didn’t,” Obito mumbles, and he takes a look over his shoulder at his father’s room, a frown crossing his face. “I don’t want to tell you over the phone. I’ll see you at the park.”

Kakashi is quiet for a moment before he hums in understanding. _“Fine…Bye, Obito.”_

“Bye,” Obito murmurs before hanging up. He pockets his phone, mind wandering back to the discovery in his father’s room. A sense of dread overtakes him as he recalls that night from over a month ago, and he can only hope that this is all just a sick trick. He’s glad that Kakashi has invited him out. Obito doesn’t think he can stand the feeling of living in that house any longer.

-

Obito watches as Izumi settles herself against a swing on the playground, feet dragging against the wood chips as her fingers brace the rusty chains. He takes his own seat on a nearby bench, phone in one hand and a lit cigarette in the other. Izumi is silent as she lightly swings back and forth, long hair obscuring her face.

Obito has found it more and more difficult to talk to Izumi as the days go by. She always responded so distantly, a trait so unlike her that Obito did not know how to approach it. Was his sister worried? Was she hurting? Maybe a mixture of both, but he couldn’t tell. Any time he tried to ask, she would deflect his questions by making up some sort of excuse, furthering the distance between them more. Obito would feel the ache in his heart grow ever so slightly every time Izumi turned her back to him, lips sealed, eyes closed and presence so far away.

He exhales, smoke streaming from between his lips and dissipating into the air. Obito leans back against the bench, staring up at the tree that overlooks him. Its branches are sporting small buds, indicating the coming of spring. The weather is beginning to warm up a little, as Obito was able to ditch his parka that morning in favor of a lighter jacket. This jacket looks far more presentable, less ragged and patched, and smells better by far.

Obito watches as the branches dance ever so slightly, a gentle breeze brushing between the twigs. He does not look away until he feels a presence by his side. Obito taps the ashes off the end of his cigarette, sitting back up with a smile. “Hey,” he greets Kakashi as the latter gives him a smile in return. “You’re late.”

“Yeah, well, not everyone has a car, asshole,” Kakashi retorts, though his tone is playful as he takes a seat next to the older male. “Izumi’s still acting weird, huh?” Kakashi asks, gesturing towards the girl on the swing. “She still won’t talk?”

Obito solemnly nods his head. “Every time I try to ask her what’s wrong, she just brushes me off like it’s nothing,” he answers lowly, watching the mentioned girl with a contemplative look on his face. “I know she’s still bothered by that night. Probably traumatized. It just sucks that she won’t talk to me about it.” He brushes his fingers through his hair, staring at his little sister in longing.

Kakashi gives Obito a concerned look. “But how are you?” he asks, linking their fingers together between their laps. “It’s almost February, Obito.”

Obito swallows, gaze falling to his shoes as he nods once more. “I know. The more days that go by, the more terrified I feel. I wish I could just take Izumi and leave.” He pulls the cigarette from his lips, watching as the ashes crumble from the tip. After his parents’ divorce, Obito grew up in relative silence. An empty home. But as time goes by with that ever-present threat above their heads, he has never found the silence as suffocating as it feels now.

Kakashi’s eyes are filled with pain. “Call the police,” he suddenly demands.

Obito gives him a sharp look. “No, Kakashi. You already know I can’t.”

Kakashi pulls away, hands gripping onto the edge of the bench as he turns to stare determinedly into Obito’s eyes. “I know you’re afraid that the guy will come for Izumi, but the police can protect her! They can protect you!” Kakashi’s grip on the bench tightens, nails digging into the rough wood. “This is _serious,_ Obito. That man had a gun and—”

“You think I don’t already know how serious this is?” Obito snaps. “That man had a gun _and_ he held it against _my_ fucking head. I think I know how dangerous this is, but what I don’t know for sure is exactly _what_ it is we’re dealing with. How big this might be. I can’t risk Izumi’s life, not with all these uncertainties.” Obito takes a long drag from his cigarette, feeling his chest swirl with uncomfortable anxiety.

“But the police will protect her, won’t they? They’ll make sure nothing happens to her even _if_ someone tries to come for her!” Kakashi pleads. “You can’t just sit around and wait for something to happen! January is almost over, Obito.”

“They haven’t done anything so far, have they?” Obito remarks plainly, but his heart beats at the mention of how much time has passed. How much time he’s spent waiting for the worst. “Maybe they’ve fucked off. Forgotten about us. Or maybe my fuckhead of a father actually paid them off. I don’t know. Maybe we’re just assuming the worst.”

Kakashi gives him a doubtful look. “You don’t really believe that, do you?”

Obito lets out a sigh. He does not want to start out their meeting with an argument, but he feels as if it’s unpreventable. “It doesn’t matter _what_ I believe. I’m caught in the corner here, Kakashi. Dad won’t tell me shit, Izumi’s too important to me, and I don’t want to play around with that man’s threat. There’s no other way out.”

Kakashi looks as if he’s about to protest, but upon seeing the look in Obito’s eyes, he stops himself. There’s silence for a moment, filled only by the sound of Izumi’s swings creaking against metal. Kakashi finally speaks again, “What were you going to tell me?” Obito glances at him. “You said you didn’t want to talk about something over the phone. We’re here now. What was it?”

Obito sharply inhales, images of his father’s trash flashing before his eyes. He didn’t want to argue, nor did he want to talk about this despite his words over the phone. But he knows that it wouldn’t be fair to Kakashi if he kept anything from him, not after how hard he had tried to earn Kakashi’s trust. Obito brings his cigarette back to his lips. “I found used syringes in my dad’s trash. A ton of them.”

“You found _what?”_ Kakashi’s eyes are wide as he stares at Obito, mouth open in disbelief. “You’re fucking kidding me, right?”

Obito glances over at Izumi again, watching as the girl drops from the swings to instead approaches the nearby slide. “Syringes,” Obito repeats, quieter this time, shifting his weight to lean back against the bench. He feels cold. “I couldn’t fucking believe it either. But I guess I should have expected something like this. After that night…” 

“You think this might have to do with the guy who broke into your house?” Kakashi asks him, worry in his eyes.

Obito gives Kakashi a wary look before nodding his head. “That’s what I’ve been thinking,” he admits, digging his shoe into the wood chips below them. “It’s the only thing that makes sense to me.”

“Did you find anything else?” Kakashi questions. “Like...what he might be… _using?”_

Obito grimaces. “No, I didn’t. I don’t think I even want to find whatever it is he’s been shooting up. But I don’t know what to do now, Kakashi. Fuck.” He kicks a pile of wood chips away, throwing his cigarette onto the ground and stomping it out. “Why the fuck is this happening? Why the fuck does this have to happen to _us?”_

“I told you that you should’ve called the police,” Kakashi states again, and Obito gives him an irritated glare. “I know that you’re afraid that those guys will find out, but the police could probably protect you! Protect Izumi! You said you were cornered, but I swear this is your only way out—”

“I don’t want to say this again,” Obito warns. “I already told you, I _can’t._ I’m not going to risk Izumi’s life like that. I don’t even know for sure what I’m dealing with here, Kakashi. I just found out that my dad is probably a fucking heroin addict or something. If he’s getting that shit from the same guy who held a gun up to my head…” His voice breaks. “ _Fuck,_ Kakashi—” His eyes water, “—I’m fucking _terrified.”_

“Just call the police,” Kakashi begs him once more, desperately grabbing his hand. “Please, just call them! They’ll do something, _anything,_ I don’t know! I don’t know what to do either! Just…just call them!”

Obito shakes his head. “Even if they did manage to save Izumi and me, they’d take my dad away. I can’t do that to Izumi. First her mother leaves the country, then her father goes to prison? She loves them too much! It’ll break her fucking heart!” He lets out a frustrated sigh. “And even then, Izumi and I don’t have anywhere to go. They’ll take us away, too. We’ll be thrown around from house to house, and I can’t put her through something like that.”

“But—” Kakashi chews on his bottom lip, a conflicted look in his eyes. He looks so _afraid,_ so unsure and afraid. “I don’t want anything to happen to you.”

Obito’s gaze softens, and he takes Kakashi’s hands in his. “I don’t want anything to happen to you, either,” he murmurs, staring into Kakashi’s eyes. “If they take me away, I won’t ever get to see you again.”

Kakashi shakes his head. “It isn’t worth it, Obito. Thinking about it like that isn’t worth your life.”

Obito stares at him in silence. _Maybe not to you._ “I don’t want to talk about this anymore,” he mutters, standing up from the bench and approaching the playground set where Izumi is drawing shapes into the wood chips with a stick. “Izumi!” he calls out, putting a smile on his face as the girl glances up at him in question. “Let’s play a game!”

He sends Kakashi a look over his shoulder, but the younger male is still on the bench, a saddened look in his eyes. Obito’s heart hurts a little at the image, but he shakes his head, unwilling to think any longer about the subject. He just wants to pretend. To pretend that Izumi isn’t hurting, that he isn’t hurting, that his family isn’t broken, and that everything is okay.

-

_Kakashi doesn’t realize what he is doing until it’s too late. His knees are red from rubbing up against the carpeted floors, his little fingers curled within the stuffing of a small teddy bear. Clumps of cotton litter the surrounding floor. The bear’s stitches are ruined, the black beads that acted as its eyes missing, lost somewhere in the displaced stuffing. Kakashi’s little hands begin to shake as he realizes what he’s done, but before he can even move, there is a knock on his door._

_“Kakashi! What are you still doing up here?” his mother asks him as she lets herself in, voice just as patronizing as it always is. Her hair is done up in a tight bun, and her high heels have her towering over him more so than usual. Her eyebrows rise when she notices the mess in his room. “What have you done to that poor little teddy bear?”_

_Kakashi glances back down at his favorite toy, eyes watering, and before he knows it, he’s sobbing. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” he cries to his poor bear, scooping it into his arms and cradling it close. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he whispers against its single ear. “I didn’t mean to, I didn’t mean to, I didn’t mean to—” Kakashi lets out a gasp as the toy is taken away from him, and he’s left with nothing to do but to gape up at his mother._

_Her brows are pulled together in irritation as she holds the bear in one hand, disregarding the bits of stuffing that fall from its torn belly and onto the floor. “We’re missing your little brother’s recital for this! You know how much this performance means to him!” She lets out a huff, tossing the disfigured bear to a random corner of the room, and Kakashi lets out a yelp as he scrambles for it, pulling it close and continuing to whisper slurs of apologizes into its ear. “You’re not even dressed!” his mother says in an exasperated tone. “You have five more minutes to get ready. If I don’t see you downstairs by then, your father and I will leave without you.” She slams the door shut behind her, the sounds of her heels clicking against the stairs dwindling into the distance._

_Kakashi sniffs, crawling over to the center of his room and collecting the clumps of cotton. He attempts to place them back into the teddy bear’s now emptied body, tears blurring his eyes as the stitching unravels, looser and looser. He feels something brush against his ear, then the sound of laughter, and he glances back up in bewilderment, silent and still._

_He hears the laughter again, and he glances to the other side of his room, meeting eyes with the drawings hanging all over his wall. There are ones of him, him and his brother, him and his family, him and his teacher, him and his friends, and it takes him moments of staring to realize that his brother is laughing at him._

_And then his mother._

_And then his father._

_And then his teacher. And then his friends._

_All at once, the drawings begin to laugh, laugh and laugh, a cacophony that slurs into one, long, ringing chime. It picks up in pitch, stirring Kakashi’s ears, spikes of pain scattering about his head, and he curls into a ball in the middle of his room, what’s left of his bear lying silently in his arms._

_“Kakashi?”_

_Kakashi’s eyes open, and he gazes up blankly at the darkened ceiling of the room. His brother stands over him, gray eyes peering into his, hair soaked with sweat. He blinks, slowly sitting up, head feeling light as he struggles to regain his senses. Kakashi feels something slide out of his hands, and when he stares down, he realizes it’s his bear. He feels his heart constrict in his chest, and no matter how hard he tries to speak, his voice fails him._

_His brother steps away for a moment, picking up the discarded, disemboweled bear, a sympathetic look in his eyes. “I’m sorry, big brother,” he says softly, sitting down on the floor with him. “I was wondering why you didn’t come to watch me dance, but then I saw…” He trails off, and Kakashi feels another tear slip from his eye._

_Kakashi shakes his head, taking the toy back, fingers smoothing over its dusty fur. “I didn’t mean to do it…” he says, voice so fragile and weak, and it takes what little self-control he has left not to start bawling again._

_His brother stares at Kakashi closely before he gets up, leaving the room silently. Kakashi watches him leave pathetically before his gaze falls back to his broken bear, mourning its unfortunate end._

It’s your fault, it’s your fault! _he hears, and he glances back up at the drawings once more._ It’s your fault, it’s your fault!

_“Kakashi!” Kakashi glances back at his door blearily, meeting eyes with those of his brother, arms behind his back. “Look!” He reveals his hands, presenting his own cream-colored bear, a stark contrast to the gray that is Kakashi’s. “I know they’re not the same, but I want you to have him now. I’m sure you’ll take great care of him.”_

_Kakashi stares at the untouched bear through watery eyes, dumbstruck and unable to move. It looks nothing like his own bear, fur too short and pristine. Its eyes are only buttons, not beads, and all it has sewn on is a nose and a small line for a mouth._

_But it is whole and it is together, and as Kakashi holds it in his arms, it sings._

“Kakashi?”

Kakashi immediately drops the faded bear, forcefully kicking it under his bed and turning to look at his bedroom door. His uncle peeks his head in. “We’ll be late for your appointment today if we don’t leave now.”

“I’m ready,” Kakashi replies distractedly, moving to grab a sweater from the corner of his room. His eyes glance briefly at his bed once more, and his heart feels as if it is twisting in his chest. “I’ll…meet you downstairs.”

His uncle nods, closing the door gently behind him. Kakashi does not move until he hears the man’s footsteps fade into the distance, and he kneels down onto the ground, reaching back under his bed for the discarded teddy bear. He traces his fingers against its graying fur, and his heart skips a beat when he catches a glimpse of small antennae peeking between the bear’s stitches. He watches as a small green bug crawls towards his fingernail, and he drops the bear once more, eyes pained as he stares at the silent object. Its button eyes stare lifelessly back.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, and he turns to leave the room.

-

The weekend rolls by quick. It is already Monday, and Kakashi is left staring silently at the stairs to the school. Iruka sits in the distance, lounging on the steps that lead to the school’s main doors. He is giving Kakashi a small smile, a friendly one, and he waves his hand as a sign of invitation. Kakashi immediately looks away, turning back around to instead find another entrance, but he gasps as he runs into someone’s chest.

Kakashi is just about to apologize when he realizes who it is. “…Class president,” he states, somewhat awkwardly as he steps back.

Genma gives Kakashi an amused look. “Do you have to call me that every time?”

Kakashi shrugs, shoving his hands into his pockets as he shifts his weight from one foot to the other. He wants to leave, but the way Genma is looking at him tells him that the older male wants to talk about something. Kakashi already knows that Genma knows what is wrong with him. Obito had told him the details. That isn’t what is bothering him, though. Rather, it is standing before the class president’s scrutinizing gaze so early in the morning that makes Kakashi feel less comfortable than he could be. He doesn’t have anything against Genma, not really, but this is the first time in a while that he’s spoken to the other male alone.

Genma lets out a sigh, adjusting his backpack on his shoulders. “I’m kind of jealous of Obito,” he suddenly says, and Kakashi looks at him in curiosity. “He’s so close to you. No one else in the entire school seems to know anything about you except for him. You two seem so close, and he makes it seem so easy.”

Kakashi frowns. “Where the hell is this coming from?”

Genma smiles at him, ignoring his question. “It’s been years since Obito has let anyone in. Maybe it’s not just him. Maybe I’m jealous of you, too.”

Kakashi stares at the class president, even more confused than he originally was. “What am I supposed to say to something like that?” he wonders out loud, briefly glancing back at the school’s entrance again, and Iruka stares back at him, the same friendly smile still on his face. Kakashi’s hands clench at his sides, wishing he could have just gone up the stairs despite his fears to enter the school. At least he wouldn’t be here, right now, having this incredibly awkward and confusing conversation with their class president.

“Nothing, really,” Genma murmurs. “Just voicing what I’ve been thinking for a while now. I’ve never really had the chance to talk to you.”

“Probably because you think I’m a freak,” Kakashi utters beneath his breath, but Genma hears him anyways.

“Yeah, probably,” Genma agrees with a small laugh. “You know, there’s been a lot of talk about the two of you lately.”

Kakashi gives Genma an absurd look before his gaze falls to the ground. “I know.” He is well aware of the fact that most of their school has caught onto their new closeness. If the whispers aren’t about his questionable condition, they are about his relationship with Obito. Obito hadn’t been kidding when he said this town was small. Secrets couldn’t be held no matter how hard one tries.

“They’re thinking that the two of you are together,” Genma comments, watching as Kakashi’s neutral expression changes to one of disgust.

“Why don’t they stop _thinking_ and just fucking _ask?”_ Kakashi growls in irritation. “Is it _that_ hard to treat people like anything other than objects to observe around here?”

“You get used to it, honey,” Genma retorts, and he glances up at the school building up ahead in contemplation. “I don’t really care what the two of you are to each other, and you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to. I just know that Obito really seems to care about you, and ever since I’ve met him, he’s never cared about anyone. I was probably the only person he ever bothered to talk to before you came around, and if it wasn’t over weed, we weren’t speaking.” He clicks his tongue, giving Kakashi a quick once-over before a reflective look appears on his face. “Anyways, I just wanted to tell you that I’ve always worried about Obito despite how much of an asshole he is, since I know how lonely he’s been since his parents split. Obito seems better now, and I think it’s because of you. No one’s been there for him until you.”

Kakashi blinks, feeling his cheeks redden ever so slightly. “He…isn’t _that_ hard to get close to,” he mutters, a little sheepish after the sudden and strange praise. “All it took was some weed…”

Genma lets out a laugh, patting Kakashi on the shoulder. “Right, just some weed. _That’s_ all it took,” he says in amusement. He stares into Kakashi’s eyes once more, hand lingering. “Take care of each other,” he mumbles seriously, and Kakashi is a little caught off guard by the sincerity of his voice. Genma gives him a small smile as he turns to leave. “Sadly, no one else will.”

Kakashi watches the class president leave quietly before his gaze falls to his arms.

_No one else will._

He tugs his sleeve up ever so slightly, eyeing the little scars littering his skin.

 _No one else will._ A bitter smile traces his lips, and when he looks up once more, Iruka is standing right in front of him. His breath catches in his throat, and he takes one step back in caution.

“You haven’t talked to me in a while,” Iruka says, a sad look in his eyes as he stares up at Kakashi. “Have you forgotten about me? I thought we were friends?”

Kakashi eyes him momentarily, feeling the skin around his scars rise once more. Strained. He bites back the urge to respond, tearing his gaze away from the younger male and stepping around him.

“Kakashi?” Iruka calls in confusion, whirling around as Kakashi begins to walk towards the stairs. “Kakashi, where are you going?”

Kakashi trains his gaze onto the school’s doors, trying his best to tune out the sound of the younger male’s voice, even as his instincts beg him to turn around. His skin burns beneath his sleeves, and it takes every bit of his willpower not to scratch.

“Why are you ignoring me?” Iruka asks him, and his voice sounds as if it’s getting closer and closer, but still, Kakashi refuses to turn around. _“I’m here for you,_ Kakashi. I’ve always been there for you, looking out for you. You don’t need anyone else,” Iruka continues, and Kakashi stops at the top of the stairs, hand hovering over the door. “Everything I do is because I care about you! You don’t need _Obito,_ you don’t need anyone but me. I’m _everything_ you need.”

“Kakashi,” another voice breaks Kakashi out of his trance, and he finally looks back, glancing over his shoulder and staring blankly down at Iruka’s stiffened smile. He sees past younger male’s head, meeting eyes with Obito, who stands at the bottom of the steps. The small smile on the latter’s face is enough to draw a breath of relief out of Kakashi’s lips.

Obito quietly walks up the stairs, taking his place next to Kakashi, linking their fingers together. “You’re cold,” he comments, rubbing his thumb over the younger’s skin.

Kakashi opens his mouth to speak but is cut off by the sound of Iruka’s voice behind him. _“You don’t need him,”_ he insists, louder this time. “You don’t need him as much as you need me.” Kakashi’s grip on Obito’s hand tightens as he feels his arms begin to itch once more. His muscles tense in aggravation. “He’s going to bring you down. He’s going to _drain_ you.”

“What’s wrong?” Obito asks him, voice soft as he tries to meet Kakashi’s eyes. Kakashi does not respond, instead concentrating on the sound of the older male’s voice itself in an attempt to anchor himself into reality. Obito stares at him for a moment before he realizes what’s happening. “Is…Iruka here?” he asks, and Kakashi glances up at him, a saddened smile on his face as he nods.

“He doesn’t care about you, Kakashi, he only cares about himself!” Iruka snarls, and Kakashi flinches, unable to move. “Stop believing his lies! He doesn’t even listen to you! _I’m_ all you need.”

“Hey,” Obito mutters, voice a low hum that catches Kakashi’s attention. He smiles when Kakashi finally meets his eyes, brushing a hand over the younger’s cheek. “Let’s get out of here,” he whispers, a faint yet mischievous grin on his lips.

Kakashi’s eyes suddenly widen, and even as Iruka continues to yell, his heart beats in excitement. But then he remembers. “You’ll be expelled—”

“I’ll get Genma to cover for me,” Obito says dismissively, waving the issue off as if it were nothing. He begins pulling Kakashi down the steps. Kakashi stumbles a little, catching one last glimpse of Iruka, the latter’s friendly stare morphing into that of a glare. But oddly enough, Kakashi does not feel anything upon seeing it. Not while Obito is holding his hand. “Come on,” Obito urges, and Kakashi tears his gaze away from the stairs to instead look at his boyfriend. “I think the both of us can use a good distraction.”

Genma’s words immediately echo through Kakashi's mind. _Take care of each other. No one else will._ He feels a small smile spread across his features, and he allows the older male to take him away.

 _No one else can,_ he corrects. Because no one else is like Obito.

-

“Where the hell did you take us?” Kakashi asks as he shuts the car door behind him, watching as Obito shuffles through the trunk of his car. He glances down at the dirt road beneath his shoes, watching as traces of dust float by his ankles as he moves. Kakashi takes in their surroundings, the long green grasses that wave with the wind, rustling together in a soft but harmonious hum.

Obito pulls out a six-pack of beer, slamming the trunk shut. “Away,” he answers simply, a somewhat smug grin on his face as he places his free hand around Kakashi’s waist. He leads Kakashi further down the narrowing dirt road, and only then does the latter notice a structure in the distance. “This place used to be a sunflower field,” Obito explains. “That is until someone set fire to half of the damn place.”

Kakashi raises an eyebrow in surprise. “Someone did _what?”_

“Every fucked up town has to have a fucked up cult,” Obito mutters, as if that were enough to answer the disturbed look on Kakashi’s face. “They were trying to summon something, if I recall correctly.” He shrugs his shoulders, and Kakashi shakes his head in slight amusement. “Anyways, nobody really comes here anymore because of that. We have it all to ourselves.” He gestures towards the structure down the road, and Kakashi squints to get a better look at it as they get closer and closer. “Every time I came here with my family, someone was always holding wedding pictures in that damn gazebo.”

Kakashi tilts his head to the side, pausing to stare at the abandoned gazebo. Ivy crawled up its pillars and occupied the roof. Its steps were crooked and streaked with dirt. Fragments of wood surrounded it, what once was white now nothing but mold and grime. “Looks disgusting,” Kakashi states, watching as a couple of birds flee from its roof as they near the broken structure. “I love it.”

Obito laughs, moving his hand to hold the younger male’s. “I thought you might. I come here a lot when I need to get out of the house and think for a while. Ponder my existence,” he adds, jokingly. “Now that it’s warm again, I can start my existential crises back up.”

Kakashi snorts, pushing Obito’s shoulder playfully before walking up the steps of the gazebo and observing the open interior. Broken twigs and leaves litter the ground, a few dandelions peeking their golden heads from between the floorboards. He dusts some dirt off of the furthest corner with his foot before taking a seat, leaning back against the wall with a content smile on his face. Obito takes a seat next to him, placing the pack of beer beside him. He pulls a can out, handing it to the younger male who takes it with a small ‘thanks.’

“I talked to Genma earlier,” Kakashi says, popping the lid open and taking a sip from the can. “It was probably the most confusing conversation I’ve ever had, and I talk to things that aren’t there.”

Obito laughs. “Sounds like Genma, alright,” he comments as he fixes himself a beer. “Can’t talk to him without getting a headache.”

Kakashi smiles a little to himself, leaning his head against the older male’s shoulder. “How was your weekend?” he asks, watching as Obito takes a swig from his drink. “Is Izumi doing better?”

Obito pauses a bit at the mention of his sister before he shakes his head, gaze trailing up to the ceiling where the light seems to capture the floating dust particles all around them. “She still won’t talk about it.” He lets out a remorseful sigh. “But that isn’t new. What is new is that I got into a fight with my father.”

“A _fight?”_

“Well, what qualifies as a fight with that bastard,” Obito mumbles, staring down at the can between his hands. “It was mostly just me shouting at him. His car got stolen on Saturday evening, which isn’t a surprise. The real surprise was how long it went _without_ getting stolen. Now the fucker’s back to taking the damn bus everywhere. Like hell am I going to let him take my piece of shit car.”

“What is he going to do about it?” Kakashi questions him, eyebrows pulled together in concern. “How did it even get taken?”

“I don’t know. He didn’t park it in the garage, that dumb fuck. Someone must have been eyeing it for a while to take it the _one time_ he didn’t keep it inside.” Obito shrugs his shoulders, clearly unsurprised with his father’s negligence. “He isn’t going to do shit. Probably too afraid the police will find his heroin or something.”

Kakashi considers asking about the man with the gun, but upon seeing the empty look in Obito’s eyes, he decides not to. “You really think it’s heroin?” he asks instead, taking a sip from his drink before placing it on the ground. There had been a heroin epidemic in his previous town. He remembers that his gym teacher had been revealed an addict, and their classes were rounded up into the small auditorium to discuss the dangers of drug abuse. It had been a mess that no one took as seriously as they should have, acting as if the issue were smaller than it really was. Hearing the possibility of it affecting Obito scares Kakashi a little. He doesn’t want anything to happen to the older student.

“It has to be,” Obito mutters with a shake of his head. “It would make sense. Besides the car, that’s probably all he’s been spending his money on.” He lets out a deep sigh, clearly no longer interested in talking about his father’s never ending list of disappointments. “But enough about that. I don’t want to think about that asshole right now. How was your weekend?”

Kakashi sits up, gaze falling onto the vines that encircled the pillar across from them. He still wants to talk to Obito about his father. He truly thinks that Obito is in great danger, and even though he knows that Obito is well aware of it, he really thinks Obito needs to fight the situation more. It feels as if the older male is simply taking hits as they come. But he complies to Obito’s wishes, dropping the subject despite his thoughts. “Same old shit,” Kakashi mutters plainly. “Sat around at home for a while. Went to therapy.” He pauses, considering something for a moment before turning to look back at the older male once more. “They agreed.”

Obito raises an eyebrow. _“They?”_

“My parents,” Kakashi clarifies in a murmur, and Obito’s eyes seem to widen ever so slightly. “They actually agreed to come in to talk about my meds this upcoming weekend. Both my therapist and psychiatrist will be there to try and convince them to take me off my current meds and consent to some new ones.” Kakashi bites his lip, glancing down at his arms, feeling the scars on his wrists burn ever so slightly.

“That’s great news, isn’t it?” Obito questions. “Maybe you’ll finally get a proper treatment.”

Kakashi swallows, playing with the ends of his sleeves as he thinks back to his session with the therapist. “I’m worried,” he admits softly. “What if they still don’t agree? How much do my doctors, how much do I have to beg before they finally give in?” Kakashi doesn’t realize he’s biting his nails until Obito gently takes his hand away from his lips. He wants to stop there, but his worries seem to fall from his lips before he can stop them. “And then if they do agree, what if the new meds don’t work either? It always takes at least a month before I feel any sort of real effect, but the _side effects,_ I fucking hate dealing with the side effects. It’ll just become an endless cycle of begging and waiting and _failing._ I-I should be happy that my parents are finally willing to come in and talk about this, but I’m just so…worried that it’ll all be for nothing.” Kakashi grabs his drink, chugging down the liquid and feeling it burn his throat. “Sometimes it feels like I’ll never win.”

Obito wraps an arm over the younger male’s shoulders, rubbing his hand over Kakashi’s upper arm in a comforting manner. “It’s better than nothing, Kakashi,” he says, leaning over and placing a soft kiss against Kakashi’s temple. “The fact that they’re coming in at all must mean something good, right?”

Kakashi stares up at Obito, a strained look in his eyes. “They’ve only decided to come in because both of my doctors and the fucking school administrators have been begging them to. It’s taken so many people, so many _pleas_ for my parents to finally say _okay_ to a _meeting._ There might be a whole new mountain to cross just to get them to agree to a new treatment.”

Obito stares silently at Kakashi for a moment, clearly at a loss for words. “Fuck, Kakashi, I’ll just come in myself and set it straight to them if I have to,” Obito remarks, and Kakashi actually lets out a little laugh, a bit surprised. “Just text me if you need any back up, man, I’ll be there in a heartbeat.”

Kakashi rolls his eyes playfully. “Thanks, Obito,” he says sarcastically, but he really does mean it. “We’ll only know this Saturday. Hopefully they’ll give in without a fight.” He lets out a small sigh, swirling his drink mindlessly. “I haven’t seen my parents in such a long time…or heard from them. I don’t really know what I’ll say to them when I see them again.”

“Damn, they really haven’t called you again after all this time?” Obito wonders out loud, and his own mind wanders to his own mother momentarily. It’s also been quite a while since she’s even bothered to contact them in some shape or form. Her monthly checks still come in, but letters or postcards have pretty much stopped. Not that Obito ever read them anyways. He has a box under his bed filled with her letters, none of which are opened.

Kakashi shakes his head, a sad smile on his face. “Not once since the first time. I don’t know if it’s because my uncle’s been giving them updates, but I haven’t heard either of their voices in a long time. I’m beginning to forget what they sound like. Or what they look like.”

“What about your brother?” Obito asks, watching as Kakashi immediately grimaces at the mention of his sibling. “Kakashi…”

“He’s been sending letters,” Kakashi finally murmurs, leaning his head back against the wall. “Lots of letters, actually. I’ve stopped reading them because they’re the same thing every time. More promises to see me again, more _I miss you’s_ and _I love you’s.”_ Kakashi swallows, watching as a soft breeze disturbs the leaves by his feet. “He got a new phone, too, and he usually tries to message me, but I haven’t found it in me to reply to him.”

Obito watches Kakashi’s eyes, seeing how they waver at the mention of his brother. “Why don’t you?” he questions in curiosity. Kakashi still dodges the topic about his brother whenever Obito asks, and the more and more he’s brought up, the more and more curious Obito gets. What has broken Kakashi so much that just the mere mention of his brother makes him shake?

“It hurts to even talk about him,” Kakashi breathes, and he reaches for his drink again, downing it and crushing the can between his hands. “I failed him as an older brother. He’s always been more mature, more talented, smarter, calmer, all the things I’ve never been. I should have been someone he can look up to, but I’m not.” Kakashi sighs, eyes falling once more to his hands, and he can feel the scars on his wrists begin to tingle in discomfort. “I’m just one big mess. When I should have been taking care of him, he took care of me…and then I…” He bites his lip before shaking his head, eyes filled with pain and confliction. _“Fuck,_ Obito, I don’t know how you do it with Izumi. I don’t know how you can be so strong for her…Every little thing I feel is always so magnified, so overpowering. Whenever my brother needed me, I couldn’t be there for him. How can I even call myself his older brother like that?”

Obito’s eyes soften as his mind wanders to Izumi, to how they grew up, to how closely he held her hand throughout the years. From the moment she was born to now, he has never let the girl go. Even if in the present, she refuses to speak to him openly, he has and always will be there for Izumi. He has always held in his tears in front of her, always forced a smile even if it pained him to move, always whispered promises, protected her and _loved_ her to fill the void that constantly hung over their shoulders. Obito has done it for so long that the very act of holding in his own emotions in for his sister’s sake has become second nature, an instinct. But that didn’t make it any less difficult.

“I can barely hold it together sometimes,” Obito finally admits, voice a low murmur as he takes another sip from his drink. “I’d do anything to make her smile, but it’s so hard sometimes…Hiding how terrible our parents are, pretending that everything is okay when it’s not. That night, I…I couldn’t even do it. It was too much that time. She heard the gun fire and the man’s threats. That isn’t something you can mask, no matter how badly I wanted to. If I could have done anything differently that night just to make sure she wouldn’t hear any of that, I would.” He lets out an exhausted sigh. “She’s too empathetic. Whatever I feel, she feels. And I can’t handle the sight of her sadness. It hurts so much to have her ignore me like this, and it sucks because I know I failed to protect her this time around.”

“But all the other times,” Kakashi insists, but his eyes are soft with sympathy. “All the other times you were there for her, even when it hurt. How did you do it? How can you be so strong when it feels like you’re about to fall apart?”

Obito smiles a bit bitterly. “Is it strength?” he wonders. “I don’t feel strong when I hold things in. It just hurts. The only reason I don’t let it out is because I don’t want Izumi to hurt either. It’s not like I throw my feelings to the side. I just try to help her cope, try to protect her just a little longer. Besides,” he begins, turning to look at the younger male, an earnest look in his eyes, “you aren’t a failure of an older brother just because you think you haven’t been there for your brother. I’m sure you have been there for him without realizing it. The fact that you were there at all, growing up with him, must have been some comfort. He had someone to look up to, whether you thought so or not. Kids are impressionable, and if your brother has turned out as nicely as you described, I’m sure you did something right.” Obito ruffles the younger male’s hair, watching as Kakashi let out a grunt, slapping his hand away. “You don’t have to devote your emotions to him all the time to be an older brother. Sometimes just being _present,_ talking, smiling, laughing…sometimes that’s enough for them.”

Kakashi stares at Obito, mouth slightly open in a daze. He considers the older male’s words, the idea that his existence alone is enough for his little brother, that even though he crumbles under pressure, even though he can’t find it in him to hold in his emotions, or make sacrifices for his younger brother’s sake, it is still okay. Did his brother really feel that way? Is that really all it takes? For a moment, Kakashi feels hope, but then he remembers his last days with his brother, the color red. Red. The color makes his skin crawl. Red. He remembers what he did, how he had ruined his brother’s dreams in one single night, and how the boy still threw his pain aside to tell Kakashi that he loved him.

_How?_

How can Kakashi call himself an older brother if all he’s ever done is tear his brother apart?

Growing up, it always felt as if his brother was better than him. The better student. The better child. The better son. The better brother.

Kakashi wants to believe Obito, he really does. But all the voices in his head only laugh, mocking him, mocking the fragment of hope he can barely hold onto. He was a terrible brother, one that didn’t deserve his little brother’s love, his kindness, his acceptance and forgiveness. Every time he sees his brother’s name flash across his phone, every time his uncle hands Kakashi another hopeful letter, all Kakashi feels is pain. Pain and regret. Uncontrollable pain and regret. A failure of an older brother.

“Hey,” Obito suddenly says, breaking Kakashi from his thoughts. The younger looks up at him, eyes slightly watery, and Obito gives him a small smile. “It doesn’t matter if you can’t hold things like this in. It isn’t your fault. It was never your fault, and I’m sure your brother knows that. If he loves you no matter what, he understands, Kakashi. You don’t need to sacrifice your emotions for him. Maybe all he needs is a letter back. A call. A text. Something to let him know that you’re okay, because I’m sure he’s been worrying about you ever since you left. It hurts more to be left in the dark, to feel alone, and that can be fixed with just one call back.”

Kakashi stares at Obito for a moment, the bitter feeling returning. _He’s doing it for_ me _now,_ Kakashi realizes, glancing away in sudden shame. _Obito is holding his feelings in again. For me._ He forces himself to smile. “Thanks, Obito,” Kakashi says sincerely, but his eyes are still sad. “I’ll try calling him later tonight.” _But that won’t change anything,_ he thinks plainly to himself. _It won’t change the fact that I ruined him._

_You’ll drain him._

Kakashi immediately looks up again, catching Obito’s eyes and gently placing a hand on the latter’s cheek.

_You’ll ruin him, too._

Kakashi closes his eyes, trying his best to ignore the whispers in his head. “Let’s not talk about this anymore,” he murmurs, scooting closer, never breaking eye contact with the older male, feeling his breath on his lips. “You said we needed a distraction, right?” Kakashi smiles as he leans up, kissing the older male softly. He pulls away slightly after a few short seconds, watching as Obito’s gaze darkens with desire. Kakashi feels his own eyes cloud. “Distract me, then,” he whispers against the other’s lips.

Obito does not need to be told twice, his fingers curling against the younger male’s hips, pulling him closer, complying to his plea. Kakashi lets out a breathy sigh, remembering why he left his old home, his parents, his brother. He remembers that all he wanted to do was forget.

-

Obito takes Kakashi back home early. It’s still a school day, and he’ll have to leave soon to pick up Izumi. But when Kakashi invites him up to stay just a little longer (a sweeping breath against his ear, a heated look, fingers intertwined), Obito finds that he cannot say no.

He allows the younger male to guide him up the stairs to the apartment, laughter bouncing across the white walls of the stairwell, silly smiles plastered on both of their faces. Kakashi stops by the door, taking both of Obito’s hands in his and pulling him close, connecting their lips with a pleased hum. Their kiss is slow, lazy, but just enough to get Obito’s heart racing. He cups the younger male’s cheeks with his hands, thumbs caressing the soft skin, backing Kakashi up against the door. 

Kakashi pulls away, a mischievous smile on his face as his hands slip teasingly under Obito’s shirt, touch feathery light. Obito brushes Kakashi’s bangs out of his eyes before leaning back down, kissing him deeply, feeling as the latter’s fingers dig into his skin.

He feels so liberated, so wonderful and carefree with Kakashi between his arms. Obito doesn’t want this to end, even as he feels time’s ever present clock tick against them, even as his problems continue to weigh down heavily on his shoulders, even as the sun begins to set outside and the quarter moon silently appears over the horizon. He doesn’t want to let go, he never wants to let go.

But Kakashi does, giving the older male a sly look as he reaches for his keys. He turns away for a second, Obito’s hands immediately encircling his waist, tucking his head into the younger's neck, breathing in his scent. Kakashi finally gets the door open, pushing it in and stepping inside. Obito automatically follows, leaving trails of kisses against the nape of Kakashi’s neck, but he stumbles a bit when the latter suddenly stops in his tracks. He frowns when he realizes that Kakashi is no longer responding, that his shoulders are stiff, his arms tense, and his whole body is frozen, skin cold.

Obito opens his eyes, glancing down at his boyfriend in confusion. “Kakashi?” he calls, following his frozen gaze to the apartment before them, and he finally notices the presence of three others in the room with them. He quickly pulls away from the younger male, cheeks a bit red as he scratches the back of his head in embarrassment. Kakashi is still frozen in place, eyes strangely empty.

The air is thick with tension, silent, and Obito feels a frown gradually form across his face. He recognizes Kakashi’s uncle, but not the others. On the couch sits a man and a woman, both dressed in formal wear, suit and ties, slacks and pencil skirt. Their eyes almost appear as empty as Kakashi’s, and just like that, realization hits Obito.

“Kakashi,” Obito hears Kakashi’s uncle say, gaze shifting to the apologetic-looking man. “I’m sorry, I tried to call you to tell you, but—”

“Is he here?” Kakashi interrupts, and even his tone sounds empty.

His uncle seems surprised, but he shakes his head pitifully. “I really tried to tell you—”

The woman suddenly stands up from the couch, a scandalized look in her eyes. “Kakashi, who is this boy?” she demands, glaring openly at Obito, and for a moment, he feels as if she can see into his very core.

Kakashi ignores her. _“Is he here?”_ he repeats, louder this time, and his uncle seems to fumble for words.

“Don’t ignore your mother,” the man on the couch interjects, standing up to join the woman. “Who is this boy?” Obito can feel his blood go cold as the man glares at him. Kakashi’s _father,_ he can only presume. Obito feels extremely exposed under their scrutiny, and he suddenly begins to understand the atmosphere in which Kakashi grew up in.

“Uncle,” Kakashi begs this time, voice filled with pain. “Is he here?”

Just as Kakashi’s uncle opens his mouth to speak, the door to the student’s bedroom opens. All eyes fall to the darkened room, and Kakashi’s eyes widen as the sound of uneven footsteps fills the room. Out comes a boy, one that looks so much like Kakashi yet so _unlike_ him that Obito’s breath catches in his throat.

A look of awe fills the new boy’s face, and the door opens further as he steps out into the light. Obito’s eyes widen when he sees the braces strapped around his legs and hips, and the crutches that clasp around his forearms. Slowly, he crutches out into the open, and Obito can do nothing else but stare.

“Kakashi,” the boy greets, a little breathless as he gives the mentioned boy a bright smile. “Oh my gosh, it’s really you!” He laughs, one that sounds like little bells, so innocent, so pure. “I’ve missed you—”

Obito feels himself stumble backwards as Kakashi suddenly pushes past him, disappearing out the front door like a gust of wind. All the adults in the room call out his name, all with different inflections, and his uncle rushes past Obito as well, chasing the runaway male through a flurry of apologies. Obito is too stunned to move, unable to tear his eyes away from the boy in the center of the room, the boy with brown hair, the crutches, the braced legs, the broken smile that stares sadly at the door, and it all clicks in Obito’s mind.

_Kakashi’s little brother._


	9. Chapter 9

Obito is too stunned to move.

Kakashi’s brother stands there, supporting his weight on his crutches as he stares longingly at the door. He doesn’t seem to really notice Obito there, but Kakashi’s parents definitely do.

“Who are you and what were you doing with my son?” his mother demands, and Obito swallows, his stomach filling with anxiety. What can he tell them? What can he say? How much do they already know? There are too many questions, and Kakashi’s little brother is still there, with teary eyes and a saddened smile.

It is all too much. Kakashi ran off, his parents are glaring at him, and his brother looks as if he is holding back heartbroken tears. Obito isn’t sure what to do, his heart beginning to speed up in his chest at an almost suffocating rate, and it isn’t until he remembers the empty look in Kakashi’s eyes that he is dragged back into his senses.

Obito does not bother to look back as he suddenly turns and runs out of the apartment, stumbling his way down the stairwell and cutting through the frozen yogurt shop. He steps out of the front door, immediately greeted by a current of men and women making their way down the street. Some give him curious looks as he struggles to catch his breath. He ignores them all, instead focusing on finding any signs of Kakashi.

He hears a car honk their horn off in the distance, snapping his head to follow the abrupt noise. Traffic has stopped at an intersection only a couple of blocks away, and Obito can feel dread weigh on his chest as he watches a small crowd begin to form in the area. More cars join in, lining up down the street, honking loudly, and Obito begins to fear the worst as he sprints towards the commotion.

Obito does not break his pace, shoving people out of the way without so much as a second glance. He leaves a trail of disgusted pedestrians, but he finds that he is unable to care as his eyes focus on the growing crowd up ahead. His heart begins to hammer in his chest, and thoughts of only Kakashi begin to swirl through his mind. _Kakashi, Kakashi, Kakashi,_ the crowd gets closer and closer, their whispers getting louder.

“What’s happening?” a woman asks her husband.

“I don’t know, I think a car might have hit someone.” Obito’s heart nearly stops in his chest.

“No, no, it stopped in time,” another woman interjects, “but there’s a boy blocking the road.”

“Is he hurt?”

“I don’t know—”

Obito pushes his way through the crowd, growling to himself as more and more people move to block him.

“What is that guy doing?” a little boy asks his mother, eyes wide and filled with a strange sort of fascination.

“I don’t know, honey, but I think we should go,” his mother answers softly, gently taking the boy’s hand but escorting him away from the crowd as quickly as possible. Obito bites down on his lip, shoving his way through, and he begins to hear the sound of Kakashi’s uncle, concerned shouts competing with the rambunctious gossip of the crowd.

“He looks like he’s having a mental breakdown—”

“—a panic attack—”

“What is he saying?”

“Is he crying?”

“He must be insane—”

Obito finally breaks through the crowd, nearly falling to his knees as he trips off the curb and onto the street. He stares up, dumbfounded, cars continuing to honk their horns from one side of the street to the other, drivers sticking their heads out and screaming for him to move. The incessant honks and whispers from the crowd pound in Obito’s skull, but he is too distracted by the sound of Kakashi’s uncle screaming something, and then finally the sight of Kakashi.

_Kakashi._

His heart breaks as he watches the younger male pace from one side of the street to the other, head in his hands, agonizing and incoherent cries escaping his lips. Kakashi’s hair is frayed, tugged and torn as the boy’s fingers tighten around his skull.

“Kakashi!” Obito hears Kakashi’s uncle scream, the man trying his best to get close to his nephew, but Kakashi immediately stumbles backwards in reaction, shaking his head. “Snap out of it, Kakashi!”

Obito opens his mouth to yell but is unable to find his voice, and he realizes then that he _doesn’t know what to do._ Kakashi is breaking down in front of him, in front of _everyone,_ and _Obito doesn’t know what to do._ He remembers the time at the party, but he feels petrified. _This is different,_ he knows this is different, and _he doesn’t know what to do._

“You’re not real—” he hears Kakashi cry out, and Obito watches pathetically as the boy screams at the air, tears flowing freely down his cheeks, eyes streaked with red, “—you’re not real, you’re not real—” Kakashi lets out a painful scream, one that bends him over from its force, dragging his voice from his lungs, and Obito can actually feel his heart rip into two.

Obito finally finds his feet, and he rushes forward. “Kakashi!” he calls out, reaching out towards the younger male.

“Obito, don’t!” Kakashi’s uncle shouts, but he’s too late.

Obito grabs onto Kakashi’s shoulder. “Kakashi,” he gasps out, but suddenly he is thrown backwards, landing on his back in the middle of the street, sleeves torn and elbows scraping against the asphalt. Obito stares back up at Kakashi with bewildered eyes, and Kakashi stares back down at him, expression dark, tears of frustration dripping from his lashes. “Kakashi?” he says again, and his voice sounds thin.

Kakashi’s eyes seem to waver in recognition for just a moment before he clutches his head again, pulling at his hair as he lets out another whimper of pain. “Get out of my head,” he grits through clenched teeth, stepping backwards and away from Obito. “Get out, get out, get _out!”_ he screams out, dropping to his knees and curling inwards as an agonizing cry bursts from his chest.

Obito feels his throat go dry, unable to move as the boy screams in the middle of the street. The crowd’s whispers grow in intensity, cars honking, furious, and Kakashi’s uncle rushes over, grabbing Kakashi by the back of his arms and pulling him back up from the ground. He immediately wraps his arms around the boy’s body in such a way that he cannot break free, only struggle, and Kakashi continues to let out incoherent screams as he thrashes against his uncle’s hold.

“Get out of here!” his uncle snaps at Obito with a sharp stare. Kakashi continues to struggle against him, but they lose their strength, screams gradually fading into moans of pain, body wracking with relentless sobs. Obito does not move, too distracted by Kakashi’s expressions, the look of absolute _torment_ in his eyes, burning red with a storm of tears. “Get out of here, Obito!” Kakashi’s uncle repeats once more. “You aren’t doing anything by just standing there! Leave him!”

Obito feels his chest constrict, and his eyes jump from Kakashi to his uncle. “But—”

 _“Get away from me!”_ Kakashi suddenly wails, but his eyes are unfocused and his words are slurred together, stunted by his heaving chest. His glare is trained on something across the street, and he shakes his head vigorously. “You aren’t real! _You aren’t real!”_

“I can handle this myself,” Kakashi’s uncle shouts over Kakashi’s hysteria, and Obito feels a part of him break in the inside. “Leave, Obito. You can’t help him.” Kakashi begins to whimper, limbs finally going limp by his side, and his eyes look so _empty,_ so strained and _empty._ Obito feels as if he can’t breathe. His uncle’s eyes fill with a certain sadness, a melancholic smile on his face as he looks from Kakashi, and then to Obito. “At least not now. Not when he’s like this.”

Obito swallows a lump in his throat, holding back his own tears as he slowly struggles back to his feet. His body aches from the fall, but his heart feels as if it’s being ripped right from his chest as the words swirl in his mind.

_You can’t help him._

Kakashi’s uncle maneuvers Kakashi so that one arm is slung over his shoulders, supporting the boy’s weight as he begins to walk him back onto the sidewalk. The crowd is slowly beginning to dissipate, cars gradually beginning to move, and Obito can do nothing else but trudge to the side as well.

_Not when he’s like this._

Obito begins to feel tears slip from his eyes, the first in a while, and he clenches his jaw in frustration, unwilling to let anymore fall.

_Powerless._

It frustrates him.

He is always so powerless when it comes to those he cares for.

-

The sky is clear.

Kakashi feels the breeze brush against his cheeks, gently blowing through his hair. He is leaning off the edge of the rooftop, socked feet planted together on the edge, hands gripping the railing from behind.

Clear and blue.

His breath mingles with the wind, and light green leaves dance in the air below him. When he looks down, there are no people, no cars, no signs of life. Everything is still. Everything is quiet.

Not a single cloud in sight.

His skin trails with little goosebumps, delicate, cheeks flushing at the beautiful sight of the town’s skyline before him. His lips part in awe at the trail of telephone poles, winding streets and swaying trees. He feels his toes curl, and he looks up at the sky.

The sun shines warmly on his skin.

It’s a cozy feeling. His heart tingles, and he feels as if he can fly.

He is only steps from the sky.

His fingers slip away from the railing.

And the sky is still clear as he falls.

His eyes open.

Kakashi stares blankly at his ceiling. It’s white.

He feels around him, hands gripping the sheets of his bed, and his breath escapes him. His heart picks up a little in his chest as he sits up, hand to his head as he struggles to comprehend his surroundings. Kakashi glances at the window, at the gnome that stands guard, then at the bean bags piled on top of one another, the shelf and the Bible, the scattered clothes covering the floor. _His_ floor. _His_ room.

Kakashi chews on his nail as he stares out the window, recognizing the streets, watching as businessmen and women roam down the sidewalks. There are no leaves swirling the air, and cars settle into a low hum at a stoplight.

 _A dream,_ he realizes, _it was a dream._ He feels a chill go down his spine, and he swears he can still feel the sun on his skin. He stares up at the sky. Clear and blue.

It’s unsettling.

Kakashi immediately gets out of bed, feeling his socked feet touch the ground, and he pauses. A dream, he reminds himself as he stands up straight. He tries his best to shake the lingering chill, instead concentrating on his room, on the present, on _reality._

His gaze falls to the bean bags in the corner of his room, and for a moment, memories begin to fill his head. His heart feels strained in his chest, and for a moment, he smells a breath of nicotine, and Kakashi realizes that he misses Obito. He misses him terribly.

He has not been to school the entire week. Skipped on Monday with Obito, missed the rest to mentally recover from his breakdown. It is now Friday afternoon. Kakashi bites down on his lip, frustration filling his features as he counts the days he’s missed school. He is running out of days, running out of allowance despite his special circumstances. He could only be gone for so long before they started really counting against him. The fear that he may never pass his second year phases him, and then the true fear that he may never graduate sucks the breath from his lungs. Kakashi knows he can’t keep missing school. It is already spring, and he hopes to every god out there that he will find the strength to bear through the next few months left of the school year. And then the next year to come.

But now, in the present, it is Friday afternoon, and he misses Obito. He hasn’t seen him all week, and messages are not enough to fill the loneliness he feels. He has spent most of his time locked in his room, refusing to come out even as his brother tries to see him, even as his mother and father demand he opens the door. His uncle slips in to give him food but nothing else, and Kakashi is at least grateful for his silence, though the man has tried to come in to provide a hand of comfort. As much as he appreciates his uncle, he is not who Kakashi wants to see. He wants to see Obito, he _misses_ Obito, misses his touch and smile, and his heart aches as he remembers the broken look in the other’s eyes as they were separated. It was one of the few things he can clearly remember from his breakdown, the one thing he’d give anything to forget.

He wants to see Obito again. He needs to see Obito again, because he knows that Obito is worried about him. And though it terrifies him to admit, he knows that the older male deserves answers.

Kakashi decides that maybe he should visit Obito, go to his house personally since he knows that the older male is reluctant to leave Izumi alone. Just as he places a hand on his doorknob to act upon his decision, he hears the sounds of his mother’s voice.

“—you’ve been giving him too much freedom! It’s been giving him these…these _ideas._ These filthy ideas that he shouldn’t be holding onto.”

Kakashi freezes in place.

 _“Ideas?”_ His uncle. “What _ideas?_ He needs real help! That isn’t an _idea_ he has, _it’s a fact.”_

“He’s already been prescribed medications for his anxiety and his occasional migraines. What more does he need?” His father. “At this rate it’ll be excessive. I won’t have a drug addict for a son.”

 _“Anxiety? Migraines?_ Do you not know anything about your own son’s condition? It’s more than just _anxiety and migraines!_ He’s schizophrenic, for crying out loud!” His uncle sounds so frustrated, so angry and offended for Kakashi. “And a _drug addict?_ How can you even dare to think so lowly of him? He hasn’t even been taking his medications! He’s been off of them for months now!” 

Kakashi’s fingers clench around the doorknob, his body beginning to shake.

“That was his decision, was it not? And right, he’s _our_ son. What he is, what he needs, and what he might become is in our right, _our_ concern, not _yours_.” His mother, and her voice is domineering, so full of herself and her own authority that it makes Kakashi want to vomit. “We’ve already agreed to come in and discuss Kakashi’s issues with his therapist. We will decide on Saturday what treatment is best for _our_ son. Not you.”

“You’re acting like there isn’t a problem. He had a psychotic break in the middle of a busy intersection! What more evidence do you need that Kakashi needs actual help? These are not _ideas_ , they’re facts! Why can’t you just accept the facts?”

“One instant is not a deal breaker.” His father’s voice has always been so cold. Kakashi cannot remember a time the man had ever smiled, not towards him, at least.

“He has gotten into at least _two_ fights at school,” his uncle recounts, and Kakashi’s heart thumps with each word. “Another one at a party. He has these nightmares that become so _terrible_ that he cannot bring himself to get out of bed in the morning. He _cut_ himself in the middle of the night once because of his hallucinations. How much further does he have to go? How much does Kakashi have to suffer before you stuck-up assholes realize that he needs _proper help?”_

Kakashi takes his hand away from the door, feeling his eyes well up with tears once more, but he clenches his teeth, unwilling to let them fall. _Obito, Obito,_ he recites in his head, closing his eyes and trying to remember the older male’s face, his eyes, his smile, anything, _anything_ to get him away from this. He needs a distraction, anything, _anything._

“We let him live with you because we thought you could help him improve his behavior,” he hears his father say. “But I’m afraid we were wrong. It seems as though he has only gotten worse.” A scoff of disgust. “Bringing home that…that _boy_. Who was that? And why was he touching our son like that? How could you let this happen?”

“Let _what_ happen? Let him spend time with his boyfriend?”

 _“Boyfriend?”_ His mother sounds absolutely mortified. “Kakashi does _not_ have a boyfriend. He was not brought up that way.”

His uncle laughs. “Like _you_ raised him at all. I can’t believe how little the two of you know about your own son.”

“Letting him live with you was a mistake,” his mother snaps, and Kakashi backs away from the door, quickly fumbling through his things for his phone. _I can’t do this. I can’t listen to this anymore._ “Perhaps we should have sent him to the facility after all.”

 _“No!”_ Kakashi’s eyes widen as he hears his brother’s voice cut through the noise, so strong and filled with pain. He hadn’t even realized that his brother was out there as well. “He doesn’t want that, and you guys know that!”

“He _can’t_ take care of himself. We gave him a chance to improve.”

“He’s _trying._ It hasn’t even been a year yet, you’re barely letting him try!” His little brother sounds so desperate, so afraid for Kakashi, and it takes the latter everything he can not to scream. “Just give him the new treatment they say he needs! Maybe then he’ll finally improve! You have to give him a chance, a _real chance!”_

“You’re being ridiculous, absolutely ridiculous. We can’t just throw money away in a goose hunt for a drug that may or may not work. That he may or may not be abusing.” His father, again, and Kakashi feels his scars begin to burn again.

 _“Again_ with that bullshit?” His uncle sounds as if he himself is going insane. “He _needs_ a new prescription! He isn’t addicted to what he doesn’t take! How do you just assume—”

“Give him a chance, _please_ give him a chance,” his brother cries.

“How can you even say this?” His mother’s tone is incredulous, as if she cannot believe her favorite son is defending his brother. “After everything he’s done to you?” Kakashi wishes everything would just disappear. _Even my own mother_ …Kakashi bites down on his lip so hard he draws blood.

“He’s your _son!_ Stop acting like he’s some stranger, some _lost cause_ and treat him like your _son!”_ his brother’s voice seems to break. “And he’s still my brother, and I’ll stand by him no matter what.”

_I can’t do this._

_I can’t listen to this anymore._

Kakashi feels as if he’s going to hurl, fingers grasping onto his phone and quickly calling the number he needs most. He curls up in the furthest corner of his room, clutching his phone against his ear like a lifeline as he tries his best to drown out the sounds of his parents’ harsh words, his brother’s cries, and his uncle’s shouts of frustration. _This is a nightmare, this has to be a nightmare,_ he thinks as his phone rings, and he prays to every god out there that he’ll just wake up.

_They’re going to take you away._

_You never belonged here anyways._

_“Kakashi?”_

Kakashi’s heart picks up as he bites back the tears, his family’s screaming outside his door and the billions of voices in his head merging into one prolonged, ringing cry that deafens his ears. But through all the chaos he still manages to hear Obito’s voice, quiet and comforting, and with a shaky breath, he can hear his own.

“Take me away from here,” Kakashi whispers into the phone, and even to him he sounds weak, _broken. “Please,_ Obito. _Please just take me away.”_

-

Obito barely steps a foot out of his car when Kakashi suddenly bursts through the back door of the shop and into his arms, the younger boy gripping onto him like a lifeline. Kakashi captures his lips in a desperate kiss, one that steals Obito’s breath away.

“Get me out of here, Obito,” Kakashi whimpers once they pull away, eyes filled with so much pain as his fingers clutch at Obito’s shoulders. “I can’t handle this anymore.”

Obito searches Kakashi’s eyes, concern written in his own, but he nods. “Where do you want to go?” It’s the first time he’s seen Kakashi since Monday, and to see the younger male in this state is absolutely heartbreaking. Regret fills him as he remembers that day, how he was unable to help Kakashi, how ashamed he felt. He understood why Kakashi felt so terrible about not being there for his younger brother. It hurt to watch your loved ones suffer without being able to do anything about it.

“Anywhere, _anywhere_ but here,” Kakashi says, and already he’s pulling away and walking to the passenger side of the car. “They’re too loud, everything’s too loud. Somewhere _quiet,_ somewhere far, far away from here where I can’t hear them screaming anymore.”

Obito swallows, thumbing his keys as he takes one more glance at the younger male’s home. He nods his head, settling himself back into the driver’s seat and starting the car. It isn’t long before they’re driving down the road in silence, Obito’s grip on the steering wheel rendering his knuckles white.

He tries his best to remain calm, but every part of him squirms with worry. He wants to shout, he wants to scream, frustrated that he can’t do anything to help Kakashi, _really help him,_ pull him away from his parents, erase his past, silence the voices in his head, heal him of all the pain he’s endured up until now. Obito can’t do anything about it, but he swallows down his frustration and settles for this. He’ll help Kakashi with _this,_ he’ll take him somewhere quiet, somewhere safe and quiet where they can be alone, away from all of their problems, even for just a little while.

Minutes of silence go by, and he finally spares a glance at his boyfriend once they hit open road. Kakashi is asleep, legs pulled up against his chest, curled into a ball in the passenger seat. Obito is alarmed to find how _small_ Kakashi really looks, how broken and small he seems, limbs so skinny and so pale. _This isn’t Kakashi._ It isn’t him, not the Kakashi who smoked pages out of the Bible, not the Kakashi who forced him to confront Izumi’s bullies, not the Kakashi that stood on the rooftop with him, not the Kakashi that laughed as he drank, smiled as he spoke, kissed him as they touched. This was not the Kakashi he knew.

Obito only wishes he could have done something different. _I should have come sooner,_ he reprimands himself, _I should have been here for him._

But there was Izumi, and he couldn’t leave her alone at home no matter how badly he wanted to come and see Kakashi. He was only able to come today (and thank _god_ he did) because Izumi was at another sleepover at her friend’s for the weekend. The girl still wouldn’t speak to him no matter how hard he tried, nothing more than single sentences about her day, about school, no emotions, no room for comfort.

Why? _Why?_ Why did Izumi have to silently suffer like this? Why wouldn’t she just _talk_ to him? Why couldn’t Obito’s father tell them whether they are safe or not? Why couldn’t his father be a man he can trust? Why did his mother have to leave his father and tear them all apart? Obito bites down on his lip, drawing blood, trying his best to concentrate on the road ahead.

Why couldn’t he do anything? Everything that’s been happening lately, Obito couldn’t do _anything_ to help it. Not Izumi, not Kakashi, the only two people he really gave a shit about anymore… _why couldn’t he help them?_

 _Strong,_ Kakashi had called him _strong,_ but Obito could not bring himself to agree. He wasn’t strong, not _strong enough,_ _powerless_ , he was _powerless_. Everything always felt bigger than him, too far and too wide for him to reach, to confront, to _fight_. Even now, as he takes Kakashi away, a bitter feeling gnaws at his gut as he realizes that _this is all he can do._ He can only help Kakashi run away. He cannot help him fight his demons, overcome his fears, he can’t do _any of that._ All he can do is run away with Kakashi, run far, _far_ away where they can try to forget about all of their problems.

 _It won’t last,_ he knows, and that’s what frustrates him most.

By the time they reach their destination, the sun is already setting, the sky taking on a deep purple hue. Obito stops the car at the edge of the field, killing the engine and listening as the vehicle settles itself into silence. Memories of sunflowers, of a family smiling and holding hands fill his head once more, but those were a long time ago, and he forces them back to the depths of his mind, never to be brought up again. Kakashi stirs beside him, a quiet yawn escaping his lips as he blinks himself back into reality.

Obito rests his head back against his seat, undoing his seatbelt and closing his eyes.

“Where are we?” he hears Kakashi say. “Is this the same field from before?”

Obito only nods before opening his eyes once more. “I didn’t know where else to go. This is the only place where we can really be alone.”

Kakashi unbuckles his own seatbelt, moving to sit properly on his seat, feet touching the floor. “I don’t care, as long as we’re away from that _hell,”_ he mutters. “Thank you.”

Obito gives him a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes, and he moves to open the door next to him. Kakashi’s hand is on his arm immediately, stopping him. “Kakashi?”

“I want to stay in here,” Kakashi murmurs, avoiding Obito’s gaze. “It’s cold outside…and I like it in here with you.”

Obito stares at Kakashi for a moment before complying. It was actually quite warm today, warm enough that Obito hadn’t bothered to wear a jacket at all. And nothing about his small car felt charming to him, but if that was what Kakashi wanted, Obito wouldn’t argue.

There’s silence between them again, the only sounds coming from the crickets outside. “I’ve missed you,” Obito finds himself saying as Kakashi turns to look at him. “School is absolute hell without you there.”

Kakashi gives him an apologetic smile. “Sorry I haven’t been there lately,” he says, brushing his hair out of his eyes. “I feel like I can count the amount of days I’ve actually been to school on my hands.”

“At this rate, _you’ll_ be the classic high school dropout instead of me,” Obito says jokingly, but he pauses when he sees Kakashi’s expression sadden. “I’m kidding,” he tries, but Kakashi shakes his head.

“It’s true,” Kakashi confesses in a mumble. “If I was a… _normal_ student, I probably would have been expelled by now. But I think I’m running out of days, even under my circumstances.” He lets out a huff, moving to lean an arm against the window. “I just wish it wasn’t so hard to get myself to go.”

“I’m sure you’ll be fine, Kakashi,” Obito says, but he knows that means nothing to the younger male.

“I want to pass this year with you,” Kakashi tells him, staring at him with saddened eyes. “I want to move on and graduate with you next year, too. But there’s a possibility that I won’t, and that terrifies me. I’m not even that bad of a student, it’s just…it’s so hard to be in a place like school. Public places…with so many people…it’s so much harder without my meds.” He rubs a hand over his face, a sigh escaping his lips. “I just wish I was sane.”

“Kakashi—”

“I mean it, Obito, I really mean it,” Kakashi says, and his voice cracks as he speaks. “If only I wasn’t like this…if only I wasn’t such a fucking _freak._ Maybe my parents would love me. Maybe my brother would still be dancing. Maybe I wouldn’t be so fucking emotional all of the time, and maybe I can actually go to school without feeling like I’m being skinned alive. I wonder what it’s like, I really wonder what it’s like to not have a worry in the world. Are there people like that?” Kakashi closes his eyes. “I wonder if it’s even possible.”

Obito stares at Kakashi for a moment, his words really hitting it home. He often wondered that, too. Though he’s felt what it’s like to have a real family, to feel loved and welcomed in his own home, feelings like that have already faded into his past. All he really knows now is silence, cold and empty homes, broken smiles and dirty looks. Constant fear, constant questioning. Wondering if his sister’s safe. Wondering when his father will come back home. Wondering where his mother’s gone. Wondering if he’ll wake up with a knife to his throat. Wondering how he’s going to make it through another day.

“I think about that all the time,” Obito finds himself saying, and Kakashi looks at him. “Everyone always seems so much happier than me. More carefree. I always wonder if that’s how they really are, or if they’re just better at hiding their issues than I am. I’ve run out of patience when it comes to most people, because I only ever think about my own problems. But sometimes the thought comes around, and I wonder if they’re hurting, too…” He stares at the steering wheel, tapping his fingers against the center. “But this town doesn’t care about things like sympathy. If they have problems, they block them out by focusing on someone else’s. The gossiping, the rumors. It’s you, this time around, as it’s been for a while. But it’s picked up. Fuckers from school keep asking me where you’ve gone. Half of them I’ve never even spoken to before. It’s suffocating. Nobody cares here, not really. They like to gossip, but they only see things on the surface. They don’t see Uchiha Obito. They see some punk with cigarettes and bloody knuckles. They don’t see Hatake Kakashi. They see a strange new kid who’s crazy enough to stand in the middle of traffic, and that’s all they care about.”

Kakashi glances down at his knees. “Why does it have to be us?” he questions the air in a voice so soft and exposed it hurts Obito’s heart. “What did we do to deserve a life like this?”

Obito swallows down a lump in his throat, feeling his eyes begin to water, but he blinks them away. He takes Kakashi’s hand in his, holding it against his cheek and lamenting how cold his skin is. Everything about this day, about Kakashi today, is breaking his heart. “We don’t deserve it,” he mutters, a hint of bitterness in his tone. “No one does. But we have each other, so maybe we can live through it together.” He feels himself flushing with his own words, but Obito finds that he cannot bring himself to care. Kakashi’s the first person who has seen him for more than just some punk with cigarettes and bloody knuckles. He can’t fathom another life without Kakashi by his side.

Kakashi gives him a smile, one that Obito cherishes, because it’s the first genuine smile he’s seen on his boyfriend in a long time. “Tomorrow, they decide,” Kakashi suddenly says as Obito plays with his fingers. “Hopefully my parents will take my side for once. Then maybe I can finally feel some progress. Maybe I’ll be able to think straight again.” He sniffs a little, staring into Obito’s eyes. “Maybe I’ll finally be able to help you, this time.”

“I’ll be there for you no matter what happens,” Obito whispers, placing a soft kiss against the younger male’s wrist. He sees the scars, mourning them, but he promises silently to himself that he’ll never let Kakashi hurt like that again, not alone, not ever. “You’ll make it through this.”

Kakashi stares at Obito for a moment before a light chuckle suddenly spills from his lips. Obito gives him a look of question. “To think I gave you a black eye the day we first met. When I invited you over that day, I didn’t think you’d become this important to me.”

Obito laughs, nodding in agreement. “I don’t know about you, but when I shoved you out of your desk that day, I knew it was fate,” he jokes, and Kakashi rolls his eyes playfully. “Is it weird if I say I’m glad you fought back? Usually people would have just taken that, find another desk and let an asshole like me have their way. But you didn’t.” Obito rubs his jaw, remembering the way Kakashi had knocked him onto the floor. “It was a bit of a wake-up call, you know? That I needed to learn to control my temper.”

“Well, I can’t say I’m glad you socked me in the nose, but I understand the sentiment,” Kakashi lilts. “I’m still surprised you really decided to come over to my house afterwards. I didn’t think it’d actually work when I tried, but you gave me a chance anyways. A chance when I really didn’t do anything to deserve one.” Kakashi smiles. “Wow, you’re kind of weird, Obito.”

“You’re weird for inviting an asshole like me over in the first place,” Obito retorts, but he mirrors his smile. “I’ll be honest with you. I only came with you because I didn’t want to go home that day.”

Kakashi nods his head. “I figured. But I’ll be honest with you, too.” He lets out a sigh, turning to face Obito once more. “I invited you over because I thought that maybe I didn’t want to be alone anymore. I was so used to being ignored, to sticking to myself back at my old school, and I was ready to do the same when I came here. But I don’t know. Something about you…I felt like I wouldn’t have to be alone anymore if I talked to you. I don’t know what it was that drew me in like that, but I’m glad I tried. You were kind of like a wake-up call to me, too.”

“We were both lonely then. Just a couple of lonely, fucked up assholes trying to sit in the same desk.”

Kakashi laughs, one that creases his eyes and shakes his whole body. But as soon as he’s finished, he turns serious once more. He seems to remember something, and a soft look of determination takes his eyes. “You saw Sukea, right?” he suddenly asks, and Obito pauses. _Sukea?_ “On Monday. You saw him, right?”

“Your brother?” Obito bites his lip as Kakashi nods. _There was no way I could have missed him,_ Obito thinks, and he swallows in preparation for what’s to come next. “…Has he always been like that?” he asks, cringing a bit at how insensitive he sounds. “I mean…”

“No,” Kakashi answers, and his eyes are blank as he speaks. “I did that to him.”

Obito pauses, and he suddenly remembers Gai and Hidan, but he quickly shakes those thoughts away, instead focusing on Kakashi’s words. “What do you mean?”

Kakashi swallows, settling into a more comfortable position on his seat as he turns to stare out the window. The sun has disappeared, and the moon glows a silent white in the sky. “Sukea’s afraid of the dark,” he says wistfully, eyes skimming over the horizon. “He always has been. We shared the same room, and he always slept with a nightlight on. It was shaped like the moon.” Kakashi’s fingers touch the glass of the window delicately as he remembers his brother. “There was a thunderstorm one night, one that knocked the power right out and Sukea couldn’t sleep in that darkness. We lit candles and sat in the corner of the room together. I remember that day, because I was suspended from school for fighting some kid, so I was already in a pretty terrible mood. Sukea’s nervousness wasn’t helping, and it was so dark…and the candle…it cast shadows so large…” Kakashi licks his lips. “The rain was so loud, and the voices in my head were even louder but…I didn’t _know_ those were just voices. I didn’t know that what I was seeing wasn’t actually there. All I heard were these voices. None I knew. And they were all telling me the same thing.” Kakashi lets out a shaky breath. _“He isn’t your brother. He isn’t your brother. He isn’t your brother._ And suddenly he wasn’t. He wasn’t my brother anymore, he was someone else, someone _horrifying,_ someone out to get me, and I didn’t want him to get me.” 

Obito watches as Kakashi’s eyes begin to water, and his own heart starts to ache as he begins to foresee the ending to this story. “I did that to him,” Kakashi says again, quieter this time, shakier and so filled with remorse. “I hurt him…because I thought he was someone else, _something_ else, and Sukea had to pay for it. I ruined him, Obito. I ruined him, all because I couldn’t see past the shadows, the rain, the whispers. That’s when my parents finally decided that enough was enough. They sent me to get checked out, and that’s when they told us I had schizophrenia. What a slap to the fucking face. I always knew that there was something wrong with me, but hearing the truth, seeing the results right before my eyes, it was still unbelievable, even to me. My parents were ready to send me off to a facility for it even as I cried to stay, because the thought of having to face this like that, _alone_ , it _terrified_ me. But it was Sukea…Sukea who begged them not to. He begged them to let me stay. If it weren’t for Sukea, I wouldn’t be living with my uncle, I wouldn’t be here right now. I’d be sitting in a ward. He thinks I can help myself, Sukea really believes I can, but I’m failing him. I’m failing him even more because I _still_ can’t control myself, even after all of this time.” Kakashi’s voice cracks. “I did that to him…I fucking _did_ that to _him.”_

Obito reaches out to hold Kakashi’s hand again, feeling the way the younger male shakes as he fights off his tears. “It’s hardly your fault, Kakashi,” Obito tries, attempting to meet Kakashi’s gaze, but the latter won’t have it. “You didn’t know…you can’t blame yourself for something you didn’t know.”

 _“I didn’t know,”_ Kakashi echoes. “Is that an excuse? I didn’t know, I couldn’t control myself, so now my brother has to suffer because _I didn’t know?_ For something _I caused?_ My fault is _his_ burden. I wasn’t just a shitty older brother that wasn’t there for him, I was a shitty older brother that ripped his dreams from his grasp, all because I couldn’t tell the difference between the voices in my head and my own damn thoughts!” Kakashi lets out a shout, slamming his hand down onto the console, and Obito flinches at the force. _“How_ is that fair? _How_ is that not my fault? How is it that I get to walk, and he doesn’t? _I_ did that to him, Obito! It’s my fault! I should be the one with braces on my legs, I should be the one who has to suffer from my own consequences. Why does _he_ have to shoulder it, why does my little brother…” Kakashi’s voice breaks. “Why does my little brother still love me?”

Obito feels his heart drop. “Kakashi, don’t say that—”

“Why won’t he hate me? Why won’t he scream and cry and shout that he never wants to see me again? Why does he still call me, text me, _love_ me? After everything…why won’t he let me go? How can he stand the sight of me? He had a future, a bright future in dance and I blew it for him. I fucking tore his future from his hands. How can he love me?” Kakashi furiously wipes at his eyes, smudging his tears of anger and frustration. “How can he still want to protect me after all this time? After all the pain he’s endured, how is it that he’s still able to smile at me? Never once has my brother screamed at me. Never once did he want me gone, even as my parents tried to send me away, even as all the doctors told him he would never be able to stand on his own again. I ruined him. I ruined everything, and even worse, I couldn’t bring myself to stay. I couldn’t face him anymore, my own little brother.” Kakashi’s face is red with tears, his entire body shaking as he struggles to speak. “He didn’t deserve that. He didn’t deserve any of it, and yet he sits at home unable to move by himself, and I’m here in the middle of a fucking field…I always run away, Obito. I always run away from my problems. I’m always running—” He cuts himself off as a sob wracks his body, dropping his head into his hands.

Obito finds that he is at a loss for words. But he has to say something, because he’s tired of watching Kakashi break apart, he’s tired of feeling his chest ache in pain from words unsaid, what if’s and maybe’s. _But what can he say?_ “He loves you because you’re his brother,” Obito finally says, feeling his own voice waver as he listens to Kakashi cry. “You’re his family, you grew up with him and…he knows it isn’t your fault.” Obito thinks about Izumi suddenly, and just like that, he finds that he is unable to hold back his tears any longer. They fall one by one, slipping past his cheeks and staining his jeans. He doesn’t exactly know why he’s crying, but now that he is, he can’t stop. They fall from his lashes like rain, warm and cold all at the same time.

Kakashi stares at him in surprise. “Obito…” he breathes, and the older male immediately looks away.

“He loves you because you’re you, and you’re more than the voices in your head, you’re more than the mistakes you’ve made, you’re more than that, Kakashi, you—” Obito lets out a shaky exhale, his heart feeling as if it’s folding in itself. He isn’t sure what he’s talking about anymore. _Who_ he’s talking about anymore. “Sorry,” he utters, moving to wipe his tears with his sleeves. “Can you tell Sukea you love him?” he suddenly asks, and Kakashi gives him a look of surprise. Obito forces a smile. “I just think…your brother is so much like Izumi…They’re innocent…they deserve more than this shitty world we’ve grown up in. I try my best to protect her because of that…I just wish I could do more. I just wish I could take her away from this all. I wish we could all just…leave this place.” Obito leans back against his seat, closing his eyes and willing his tears to stop. “Even if you can’t forgive yourself, Kakashi, Sukea has. Tell him you love him. Just tell him.”

Kakashi is silent for a moment before he slowly nods his head, swallowing back the rest of his tears as he listens to Obito’s uneven breaths. “You already do so much,” Kakashi suddenly says, voice soft but shakily strong, and Obito glances back at him through blurred vision. “You wish you could do more…but you’ve already done so much for her. More than you realize, and even if she isn’t talking to you right now, she still loves you, too.” Obito closes his eyes as he feels more tears slip by again, the mention of his sister striking him hard. “I’m sorry, Obito. I’m so, so sorry.”

“What are you apologizing for?” Obito asks, continuing to wipe at his eyes. “These things are out of our hands. Like how your psychosis isn’t your fault, like how it isn’t my fault my parents left. It’s just how life played us and we can’t do anything about it but endure, honestly.”

“No, not that,” Kakashi mumbles, expression softening as he stares up at Obito. “Your family. I’m sorry about your family. You always talk about how much your sister loves them, how she loves your parents so unconditionally despite how they’ve thrown the two of you away. You always talk about it like that, frame it in that light…but I know,” Kakashi reaches out, holding Obito’s cheek in his hand, swiping his tears away with his thumb. “I know you still love them, too.”

Obito stares dumbfoundedly at Kakashi for a moment before he feels more tears drop from his lashes, and suddenly he is smiling, smiling at how ridiculous he feels for trying to hold back his tears in the first place. “Fuck,” he says, because he cannot find his words. “Kakashi?”

Kakashi looks up at him, and the moonlight catches his irises. Obito’s breath suddenly catches in his throat as he loses himself in the younger male’s eyes. “Yes?”

Obito licks his lips, unable to take his eyes off of the way Kakashi’s skin seems to glow even through the darkness of the night. “I need another distraction,” is all he manages to say, and his hands are on Kakashi’s cheeks, pulling him in to meet his lips in a breathless and desperate kiss.

Kakashi's eyes automatically close, lips parting as he allows Obito to guide him as he pleases. He lets out a sigh of both relief and content, melting into the older male’s touch. _A distraction. A distraction. Another distraction._ He feels his heart pick up in pace, flutters of desire stirring in his stomach, and all thoughts, all worries disappear from his mind. _I need one, too._ He leans in further, pressing a hand against Obito’s chest and coaxing him back. Obito seems to get the message, a hand reaching back and pulling the recliner, the seat gradually dropping low until he is lying on his back.

Kakashi follows him, crawling over the console and straddling the other between his legs. They pull back for breath, catching each other’s gazes once more, and something seems to be exchanged as Obito allows his hands to trail from the younger’s arms and down to his hips, lightly at first. Then his fingers tighten, wrapping around the loops of Kakashi’s pants, pulling the latter close and meeting his lips once more. Kakashi tilts his head to the side, deepening the kiss as his own fingers trace the other’s collar, teasing the line between fabric and skin.

Kakashi pulls away for a moment, admiring the way the moonlight veils half of Obito’s face before searching his eyes. Obito’s fingers mindlessly trace little circles against Kakashi’s hips, but his gaze is questioning, and Kakashi shivers in need. “Go ahead,” he whispers, his heart skipping a beat as he does, watching as Obito’s pupils dilate ever so slightly. It’s cramped and hot in the small car and his cheeks are pink with pleasure and anticipation, and all Kakashi can think about now is how much he _wants_ Obito, how badly he wants to be with him. _A distraction. This is what they needed._

Obito feels the corners of his lips lift at the words, and he sits back up, sliding his hands under the younger’s thighs and pulling him flush against his body. Kakashi lets out a soft sigh, adjusting himself on the other’s lap as his fingers trail to the buttons of Obito’s shirt. He gradually picks the buttons apart, feeling his head go light as Obito begins to kiss his neck, lightly biting the thin skin. Kakashi lets out a shaky breath, shivering at the tingling sensation, and he loses his grip, grasping onto Obito’s shoulders for support. _“Obito,”_ he breathes, tilting his head back to feel more, more, _more._

Obito trails his lips up the younger male’s neck and against his jaw, leaving his shirt open as Kakashi traces his fingers against the exposed skin. He quickly makes work of Kakashi’s own shirt, pulling it over his head, and Kakashi lets it fall behind him, lost on the floor, exposing his torso to the night air. Obito catches a glimpse of Kakashi’s collarbone, the dips and the curves, and he instantly leans down, tasting the warming skin. Kakashi lets out a moan, and he feels Obito’s fingers drift against his waist. Obito continues to explore his skin, touches gentle yet keen, rendering the younger breathless. Kakashi’s eyes are half-lidded, and his gaze falls to the night outside.

He follows the stars, watching as they dance in the sky, speckles of bright light that seem to twinkle with every exhale. Kakashi gazes at the moon in the distance, admiring its hazy glow before he feels himself being pulled back down. He lets out a soft gasp as he’s guided onto his back, and suddenly he is staring back up at Obito, the older male’s opened shirt enclosing them like white curtains, his eyes so intense and filled with _longing_ that Kakashi almost forgets how to breathe. He immediately reaches back up, pulling Obito back down and crushing their lips together, eyes drifting shut as he memorizes every touch, every sound, every flutter of his heart.

 _A distraction,_ they think.

_But it’s different this time._

Obito swallows, and he takes this opportunity to free them of their pants, Kakashi’s grip tightening in his hair as his fingers trail along the younger’s exposed thighs. Obito is slow as he moves, careful and light, because although they’ve done this before, _it’s different this time,_ somehow, and he does not want to be careless, he does not want to hurt Kakashi. Obito does not want this to only be about himself. He wants this to be about the two of them, together, and he reminds himself this even as his senses cloud with an almost insatiable lust, even as every inch of him simmers in desperation.

Kakashi lets out a shaky breath as Obito coaxes his legs apart, sinking between them, and he finds himself suddenly unable to fully meet the older male’s eyes. Kakashi’s head falls to the side, feeling sheepish, and his gaze trails back up to the endless night sky. He struggles to remain focused as Obito prepares him, whimpers escaping his lips despite his best efforts to hold them back. It’s strange, so _strange,_ something is different this time, but Kakashi isn’t sure what. They’ve done this before, he reminds himself, but Kakashi tries to remember another time like this, another time in which he’s felt so close to someone, _so connected._ He tears his gaze away from the night, closing his eyes to instead focus on the sounds of Obito’s breaths, listening to his own heart beat in his chest.

Obito finally pulls away, and Kakashi opens his eyes once more, watching as the older male turns to shuffle through the glove compartment by the passenger’s seat. Kakashi runs a shaky hand through his hair, glancing away as his heart suddenly picks up in speed, a mixture of both excitement and nervousness swirling his senses. He isn’t sure why he feels so nervous, but as Obito returns, figure so warm and secure, eyes meeting so naturally it stuns Kakashi’s heart, he suddenly recognizes why.

 _I love him,_ he realizes, and the world seems to go still.

“Obito,” his name drifts so freely from his lips, and things begin to feel so close, so real that as Obito finally connects their bodies, Kakashi is left with nothing else to do but close his eyes and arch against the seat, desperate to lose himself in every inch of Obito, to drain himself of all thought, only able to think of one thing, one _person._

_It’s different this time._

_“Fuck,”_ Obito suddenly breathes out, dropping his head into the younger male’s neck in an attempt to anchor himself back into reality, _“Kakashi.”_ His movements still for a moment, catching his breath, his thoughts, before picking up again, slow but deep, and together they rock the small car back and forth, breaths mingling with the night air. Obito loses all train of thought, only able to _feel,_ feel Kakashi, taste his skin, savor the marks and scratches that litter his shoulders from Kakashi’s tightening grasp.

_It’s more than a distraction._

Obito cannot recall another time he’s ever felt so _good, so consumed_ by something – _someone_ so captivating. Every moment feels better than the last, senses dripping with a craving for _more,_ more Kakashi, more, more, _more._ He feels his breath catch as Kakashi arches again, a sight so _enticing_ that Obito lifts his head to capture his lover’s lips once more. Kakashi returns his kiss just as eagerly, fingers curling into his skin, legs wrapping around the older male’s hips and pulling him in further, _deeper._

Kakashi pulls away as his senses suddenly become so overwhelmed with _him, Obito,_ _Uchiha Obito,_ and the world seems to fade as he hears, sees, and feels _only Obito._ He can’t get enough of the feeling, rocking back against the older male as fragments of his name flow from his lips. Their eyes meet once more under the shade of their seclusion, and Kakashi is sure that he can name every constellation reflected in Obito’s eyes.

Obito can feel himself slowly losing his mind, Kakashi’s voice so alluring, his scent so _intoxicating._ The sheen of sweat on his neck, the dust of pink on his cheeks, and the way his lashes flutter like gentle wings, drive Obito to the brink of insanity. There’s a part of him that knows he is gone, a piece that has fallen and is now completely devoted to Kakashi and Kakashi only. It fills him with a sense that he cannot have anyone else, because there is no one else like Kakashi, no one else like the boy between his arms, no one else like the boy that can make Obito feel so _alive._ There is something about Kakashi, something about his little breaths, his trembling fingers, his name on his tongue that absolutely mesmerizes Obito. Obito recognizes that even the moon cannot compare to Kakashi’s silent and surreal beauty. 

They move together in a cascading rhythm, one that syncs their deepest thoughts, their beating hearts. Minutes feel so _endless_ and _limited_ all at the same time, tangled together, desperate and secure. Neither is willing to let go, unable to accept an ending to such an indescribable feeling, a mutual bond bounded by their breaths, unspoken, but unbreakable. And even between the billions of stars scattered about the universe, they know, absolutely _know_ that there will never be another moment, another sight, another _love_ as beautiful as theirs.

-

Obito always craves the taste of smoke after sex. It helps him refocus, reaffix himself to reality. They sit outside, leaning against the hood of his car, a blanket draped over their shoulders. Obito lights a cigarette, eyes trained on the little bright light, so delicate and intense all at the same time. Obito feels Kakashi’s head lean against his shoulder as he pockets his lighter, cigarette dangling between his lips. The older male adjusts the blanket, and Kakashi lets out a wistful sigh.

“I don’t want to go back,” Kakashi’s voice breaks the silence, so soft it brings shivers down Obito’s spine. “I want to stay here with you forever.”

Obito smiles a little, drawing in the smoke from his cigarette before letting it all out in a single exhale. “I don’t want to go either, but we have to go home,” he reasons, but there’s a sense of longing in his tone, a longing to never leave. “We can’t stay here all night.”

Kakashi inhales deeply, breathing in Obito’s scent. “Why can’t we?” 

“Kakashi…” Obito mutters, placing his free hand over his boyfriend’s and linking their fingers together.

Kakashi lets out another sigh, shoulders slumping ever so slightly at his sides. “A little longer, please?” he quietly pleads, and Obito finds that he is unable to say no.

They sit in silence for a few minutes, the chirps of crickets the only sounds accompanying the breezy night. The stars twinkle above them, dancing, and the moon casts its gentle glow, comforting. For a moment, it feels like they’re the only people in the world. Together. No problems. No worries. No doubts. Just them and the night sky’s embrace.

Obito falls into a daze as he continues to smoke, only broken from his thoughts when Kakashi speaks once more.

“I think…” Kakashi begins, timidly almost, catching Obito’s attention, “I think… _I love you,”_ he says, and there’s a distant look in his eyes for a moment before he turns to stare into Obito’s eyes. “I…I don’t think I’ve ever really said that to anyone before.” He takes in a deep breath, and suddenly he is smiling, an expression so soft and beautiful it melts Obito’s heart. “But I think I really do. I think I really do love you.”

_I think I love you._

The words sound sublime to Obito’s ears, and his heart stirs with unbridled affection. He doesn’t hesitate. “I think I love you, too,” he answers, leaning over and pressing a soft kiss against the shell of Kakashi’s ear. “And I…don’t think I’ve ever felt this way towards another person before,” he admits quietly, watching as Kakashi’s lips parted in awe. “But I’m glad it’s you.”

Kakashi’s smile shines brighter than any of the stars up above. He pulls Obito in so abruptly that the blanket falls behind them and the latter drops his cigarette, kissing him once more. Obito places his hands over Kakashi’s, returning his kiss, cherishing his sweet lips. When they part, there are smiles on their faces, and neither can get their hearts to calm down.

“I want to run away with you,” Kakashi suddenly says, breathless, linking their fingers together as he stares deeply into Obito’s eyes. “I want to graduate, leave this town, and run away with you. Anywhere. I don’t care. As long as it’s not here, as long as we’re happy.” 

Obito reaches over, brushing the younger’s bangs out of his face and pressing a kiss to his forehead. “Don’t worry. I’d never leave without you.”

“You promise?” Kakashi asks, staring up at Obito, but a yawn suddenly escapes his lips, and Obito somehow finds the sight endearing. _It’s late._ It’s so late, and he should really take them home, but it feels good sitting here. It feels good being here with Kakashi.

“I promise,” Obito answers, watching as Kakashi gives him a slow and sleepy smile. “We’ll make it out of here, Kakashi. Get out of this stupid town. Together.”

Kakashi lets out a sigh, turning to bury his face into Obito’s neck. “The idea feels so far away. So unreachable, sometimes,” he says, breath lingering on the older male’s skin.

“We’ll get there, one step at a time,” Obito reassures him, and his own eyes feel heavy, the idea of sleep so tempting. “Come on, I’ll take you home.”

Kakashi is silent, still unwilling to leave, but he takes Obito’s hand anyways. 

A breeze drifts past them, and it smells of irises.

_Spring._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the lovely comments so far <3 I'm glad you're all enjoying this story as much as I'm enjoying writing it lol


	10. Chapter 10

Kakashi’s hands move to adjust the bright green apron tied around his waist, grumbles of nonsense breathed between his lips as he glances up at the clock on the wall. His fingers tap impatiently against the countertop as he eyes the motionless world outside the shop, finding that his uncle’s decision to open the shop earlier than usual in response to the warming temperatures a _terrible_ idea. A change in seasons didn’t mean a change in people’s willingness to get up before 8 AM. Kakashi included.

He glances down at the textbook set out on the counter in front of him, a quiet groan emitting from his throat. After missing so much school, his pile of lessons to learn and work to make up had compounded so dramatically that he could barely see over its peak. Finals were coming up, quicker than he could muster, and if Kakashi wanted to have even the slightest chance of passing, he knew he needed to study whenever he had even the smallest opportunity.

But _boy,_ was it difficult.

He glances out of the shop’s windows once more, blowing his bangs out of his eyes as a couple of cars cruise by. A part of him itches to go back upstairs and nap the rest of the morning away, the combination of the lifeless streets outside and the monotonous textbook’s glare coaxing him to sleep. His eyes grow heavy, head softly lulling to the side.

“Distracted?”

Kakashi glances up from his book to the customer sitting at the table in the corner. Nagato sends him a knowing smile from over his laptop, wiggling his eyebrows teasingly. Kakashi rolls his eyes, ignoring the heat in his cheeks as he flips to the next page in his textbook. “Shut up,” he remarks, and Nagato lets out a lighthearted laugh. “Shouldn’t you be working on something boring right now?”

“I should be, yes,” Nagato says, picking up his untouched cup of frozen yogurt with one hand, “but watching you look up from your book in mild annoyance every few seconds is far more entertaining than this paper.” He takes his spoon, mixing the softened dessert around. “That’s not the best way to study, kid.”

Kakashi scowls, glaring down at his textbook, a picture of a smiling woman in a lab coat and goggles staring right back at him. “I can’t understand half of the fucking words on this page. What the hell was I thinking when I decided to take _Biology_ of all things this year?”

“Just take a break,” Nagato says with a dismissive wave of his hand. “Sit with me, I need an excuse not to work on this assignment, anyways.”

Kakashi snorts, closing his textbook and sliding it into an empty slot beneath the countertop. “That’s not the best way to study, _kid,”_ he mocks, but he moves around the front and joins the older male at the table anyways. He stares down at Nagato’s rather chaotic setup, the laptop placed firmly on the space in front of him, but his jacket, watch, glasses, notebooks, and other miscellaneous items scattered to the side and on the floor. It never ceases to amaze Kakashi how comfortable Nagato always seems in this lonely frozen yogurt shop. “What were you even writing?”

“Just a research paper on the relationship between signal transduction pathways and certain diseases,” Nagato answers, spooning a sliver of his frozen yogurt into his mouth with a satisfied hum. “The deadline’s next Tuesday.”

Kakashi gapes at him. “What?”

Nagato raises an eyebrow inquisitively. “Tuesday, next week.”

“No, I mean the other thing.”

“Defective cell signaling?” Nagato repeats, and Kakashi tilts his head to the side. “You know, like what happens with Cholera?”

“Isn’t that the thing that makes you shit a lot?”

Nagato blinks dumbly at Kakashi for a moment before letting out a laugh of amusement. “Yeah, something like that.” He puts his cup back down, moving to continue typing on his laptop. “Didn’t you just say you were taking Bio? I think you might need to study a little bit more.”

Kakashi lets out a scoff, taking Nagato’s frozen yogurt and deciding to finish it himself. “As if reading that textbook could help me understand what the hell you just said.” He rolls his eyes, staring down at the vanilla-flavored dessert in the cup, watching the cream drip over the tip of the spoon. “Explain it to me,” he says, distractedly, and Nagato glances back up at him in interest. “I’ll pretend to listen.”

Nagato lightly shakes his head, a fond grin on his lips. “Alright. Do you know anything about cell communication?” he asks, fingers tapping on the edge of his laptop as he watches the younger male devour his frozen yogurt.

Kakashi licks the spoon clean before setting aside the now emptied cup. “Nope,” he says, popping the ‘p’ with a shake of his head. “Does it have anything to do with making phone calls? Because if so, please explain to me why the signal in this shop is always crap.”

Nagato snorts. “Very funny,” he utters, and Kakashi’s smirk is proud. “Cell communication actually refers to the methods in which the cells in our body transmit information to one another through chemical signals. It’s a highly selective and extremely important process in all organisms.”

Kakashi leans against the table, sending the older male a wry grin. “Hmm, I don’t get it,” he lilts. 

Nagato hums. “Have you ever put your hand on a hot surface before?” he asks. Kakashi merely shrugs. “What usually happens when you touch something extremely hot?”

“I burn my fingers,” Kakashi quips, and Nagato lets out a mildly annoyed sigh that brings a sly smile to the younger male’s face.

“Yes, but you also immediately retract your hand,” Nagato explains, sitting up a bit straighter, and Kakashi braces himself for the upcoming explanation. “That instinct is the result of cell communication. The nerve cells in your fingers recognized that they were burning and immediately relayed that information to the other relevant cells in your body, triggering your muscles to contract and jerk your hand away from the heat, all within the blink of an eye. You didn’t even have to think about it yourself, did you? Your body simply moved for you.” Nagato snaps his fingers directly in front of Kakashi’s eyes, and he blinks. “Cell communication. It’s automatic. It saves fingers. It saves lives.”

“I kind of remember learning about something like that,” Kakashi mumbles, memories stirring in his head of his first few sessions with his psychiatrist years ago. She was young and inexperienced, and most of the things she proposed were later dismissed by his parents anyways. “Neuro…transmitters, right? My old psychiatrist used to tell me that those little shits were the cause of my depression or something.” Kakashi purses his lips. “Didn’t save my fingers so much there, did they?”

Nagato seems to contemplate something for a moment. “Well, what I described is simpler and much more straightforward than what your psychiatrist was trying to explain, but the link between defective cell communication and depression is something I’m writing about as well. Low levels of chemical messengers such as serotonin can lead to depression, so _yes,_ those little shits _were_ the cause of your condition, biologically speaking.”

_Condition._

Kakashi suddenly feels goosebumps rise in his skin at the words. “I thought you were writing about diarrhea,” he tries to joke, but his voice cracks a bit with the last syllable, memories of his sloppy diagnosis stirring his gut with a prickling feeling too difficult to ignore.

 _“Cholera,_ which is much worse than just diarrhea,” Nagato corrects, unaware of Kakashi’s growing discomfort. “But _no,_ I was just giving you a common example. My paper focuses on how failures in signal transduction relate to various mental disorders and diseases,” he explains with a breathy sigh, fingers gliding across the keyboard as he types some more. “Depression is one of them. Alzheimer’s is another, Parkinson’s…” he trails off, eyebrows furrowing in concentration as his eyes skim the words written across the screen. “Cell signaling is such a vital process in all forms of life…without it, our bodies would quite literally shut down.”

Silence fills the space between them, interrupted only by the sounds of Nagato’s fingers hitting the keys on his keyboard. Kakashi swallows thickly, shoulders tense, eyes falling to the older male’s laptop and listening to the sound of its fan’s low hum. The whir slowly intensifies to something akin to a whip, harsh and splintered. A frown mars his face, and Kakashi clenches his hands as the scars on his wrists begin to tinge ever so slightly, a morbid sense of curiosity pulling the words right out of his mouth.

“But what about schizophrenia?” Kakashi finds himself asking, and his voice sounds so _loud,_ so _pronounced_ as it cuts through the heavy air. Nagato immediately stops typing, looking up at the younger male in question, and without the sounds of the keys, only the fan continues to murmur. Kakashi looks away, willing himself to ignore the white noise, eyes focusing on the streets outside.

“What do you mean?”

Kakashi bites his lips, enduring the burns on his skin. “Is there some sort of…failure in cell signaling that causes things…things like psychosis?”

Nagato’s mouth opens in surprise, and he seems to hesitate. Kakashi tries his best to maintain a neutral expression despite his beating heart, stare fixed on something past Nagato as he tries to calm the anxiety rippling in his stomach.

“I…I wish I could give you an answer,” Nagato finally says, regretful tone matching the sorrow in his eyes, and Kakashi’s own waver in response. “Unfortunately, not much is known about the actual causes of schizophrenia.” The younger winces, unable to hide the crestfallen smile that tugs at his lips at the sadly unsurprising revelation. _Of course._ “There’s evidence relating to cell communication suggesting that altered levels of serotonin and dopamine may have some sort of connection to schizophrenia, since medications that work to counter that imbalance have been successful in relieving some of the symptoms of the illness,” Nagato continues, and he lets out a small sigh. “But nothing is certain.”

The fan seems to stutter, scraping against metal before returning to its normal whir. Kakashi feels a weight settle on his shoulders as he processes Nagato’s words. _Of course,_ he thinks, a bitter look in his eyes. _Of course no one knows._

_You really are just a freak._

Nagato gives him a look of sympathy. “Kakashi—”

“Well! Hopefully my new meds will do its job and fix that dumb imbalance, then,” Kakashi quickly chirps, voice rising in pitch as he forces out a light-hearted laugh. He scratches the back of his neck, feigning nonchalance. Nagato opens his mouth to speak, but Kakashi cuts him off, “I just started taking them this weekend, actually. Fingers crossed they’ll work this time, yeah? Then I can go to school next week like everyone else!” He gives the older male a strained smile, standing up from his seat and turning to head back towards the counter. “That was a nice break! I really should get back to work—”

“Kakashi,” Nagato utters, the low and authoritative rumble in his voice freezing the addressed male in his tracks. “I know what you’re thinking, okay? It’s not fair, and I know it isn’t fair that you have to suffer like this without knowing the real cause. But that isn’t a way to approach this, that isn’t the way to think about this. It _isn’t_ your fault—”

“I wasn’t thinking about anything,” Kakashi states flatly, turning back around with the same tight-lipped smile, his eyes void of their usual warmth. “Really, it’s _nothing._ They’re always researching, right? Doctors and scientists and all that?” The sympathy in Nagato’s expression physically pains him to see, and Kakashi clears his throat, trying his best to maintain a steady, a _strong_ and unwavering tone of voice. “Maybe one day, they’ll learn what causes these terrible disorders. Maybe one day, they’ll learn how to actually fix them.”

“Kakashi, please,” Nagato pleads. “Talk to me.”

Kakashi opens his mouth to speak, but they’re interrupted by the sound of the bells chiming over the front door. The two males glance over, watching as a young woman and her child step into the tiny shop.

“Ah.” Kakashi immediately greets them with a shallow bow, “welcome to Hatake Froyo.” The woman smiles kindly back at him, and Kakashi barely spares Nagato a second glance before he heads towards the counter, adjusting his apron as the child runs towards the selection of toppings in excitement.

 _“Kakashi,”_ Nagato calls again, softer, weaker, this time, but Kakashi does not look up from the cash register, the younger male mindlessly poking at the buttons on the screen. He can no longer hear the whir of the fan over the child’s cries of delight.

He hears a deep sigh come from the table in the corner, the sound of the laptop shutting down, things being shuffled together, heavy footsteps, and the bells ringing a somber and silent departure.

Kakashi closes his eyes, rubbing a thumb over the broken patterns on his wrist.

 _Maybe one day,_ he’ll learn what he did to deserve this pain.

-

Obito closes the door behind him, eyes trained on the pile of unopened letters held firmly in his hands. He eyes the bills and tickets wearily, all addressed to his worthless father, setting them aside on a nearby table. Obito is just about to toss everything away when he notices a very intricately designed envelope, the white of its surface glowing in such a way he cannot ignore.

He traces the letters embossed into the center, coated with gold, perimeter etched with delicate engravings of vines and ivy. Obito feels a frown of confusion form on his face as he stares down at the sophisticated calligraphy, so out of place amongst the dreary spam that normally made their way into their mailbox.

_To Uchiha Obito and Uchiha Izumi._

A small daffodil is imprinted just below their names, small and golden, peering up at him from between its star-shaped petals. Staring at the beautiful, motionless little flower stirrs Obito’s gut with a strange sense of uncertainty. He swallows down his dread.

The only letters he ever personally receives in the mail are from his mother. They were often postcards of some sort, informing him of her whereabouts, but Obito never bothered to read them. A simple glance at the artificial scenery printed onto the cards always left Obito with a nasty feeling in the back of his throat, memories he left locked in the back of his mind stirring evocatively. He never once bothered to read what his mother had to say, never once bothered to respond, the disturbances from the idea alone too invasive.

The letters often found themselves stashed in an old shoebox below his bed, joining his overflowing collection of unopened mail. The only ones he ever opened from his mother were the monthly checks, but _this,_ the envelope in his hand, looks far too elegant to be one of the notes she normally sends.

Obito hears something drop somewhere in the house, and he immediately looks up, envelope clutched in his hands as he listens for any movement within his home.

It is well into February, and every little sound still makes him jump. His father had implied to Obito that there was nothing left to worry about, but his reassurance hadn’t been enough. Even if his father had paid his dealers off, that didn’t change the fact that those fuckers know their home, know their family. There is no telling what else is at risk. The very fact alone that they are always being watched rendered the male in a latent state of paranoia. It is hard to believe his father anyways, just like it is hard to believe that they won’t encounter those threats again.

He’s relieved when Izumi merely exits her room, eyes drifting from her gaze on the floor and onto him. Obito quickly hides the decorative envelope behind his back, trying to seem as natural as possible as he forces a casual smile.

Izumi doesn’t buy it, an eyebrow immediately rising in suspicion. “What do you have there?” she asks, tone careful as she takes a step towards him.

Obito curses beneath his breath. “Nothing,” he forces himself to say. “Just another ticket. Guess I got caught speeding on the road somewhere,” he lies with an easy laugh, but Izumi’s eyes merely narrow. Obito clears his throat, mind searching for sufficient words. “Hey…don’t you have homework?” He curses again.

“I finished it,” she murmurs, approaching her older brother, arms crossed and tone unbelieving. “What is it, really? Why don’t you want me to see it?”

For once, Obito kind of wishes that Izumi would ignore him like she normally does nowadays. Sure, it hurt his chest every time her smile didn’t quite reach her eyes, struck his pride whenever she merely responded _“good”_ to his inquires about school, strained his heart to watch her walk away when the topic of her feelings was brought up, but _now,_ now he really wishes she would just accept his half-assed answer and leave him alone.

Obito isn’t exactly sure _why_ he doesn’t want Izumi to see this letter as he does not know its content himself, but something about the little daffodil fills his stomach with dread. He would have preferred to open it alone, to face its mystery in solitude, but it seems as though Izumi won’t give him the opportunity to.

“It’s just some letter,” Obito says dismissively, moving around the younger girl to get to his room. “You should go study or something. Finals are coming up, aren’t they?”

“Stop that!” Izumi half whines as she follows him across the hall. “You should be studying, too, if that’s the case!” Obito gives her a doubtful look, and she rolls her eyes in mild annoyance. “You know what I mean. What’s in the letter?”

“I don’t know, I’m not even going to open it,” Obito lies, slipping into his room and attempting to shut the door behind himself, but Izumi keeps it open by standing directly in the doorway. “…I’m going to change my clothes. Care to give me some privacy?”

“Not until you open that letter,” Izumi remarks with a snort as she forces her way into his room. Obito gives her an incredulous look. “What? You were acting all fishy, so of course I want to see what’s up!” Hints of her previous playful nature manage to loosen Obito’s guard, and the older male cannot help but wince at the terrible timing.

He scoffs. “I was _not_ acting _fishy,”_ he denies, catching a glimpse of the letter in his hand once more and grimacing ever so slightly. A sigh escapes his lips as he stands in the middle of his room. Izumi moves to hover beside him, peering over in anticipation. His fingers play with the corners of the envelope, impending defeat sagging his shoulders. “I don’t really have a choice, do I?”

“Of course you don’t,” Izumi chirps, sending him a cute smile, one that Obito actually hasn’t seen in a while. A part of Obito melts a little, cherishing the apples of her cheeks, and he finally gives in, though partially lamenting the context of the situation that brought on her expression in the first place. He had yearned to see her smile after so long, bending over backwards for her, only to see the long-awaited sight over something like _this._ But he supposes there isn’t much he can do about that, anyways.

Obito lets out another sigh, and he finally tears the tab away, carefully opening the envelope, preventing any rips that can destroy the intricate designs. He pulls a folded piece of paper out, noticing that it, too, had gold etched into its corners. Izumi shifts beside him, moving for a better view as Obito flattens the creases away. The paper itself is tinted cream, the print a deep and contrasting black that soaked through the surface of the page. The air is still as they read.

Obito is horrified to find that his hands are shaking.

His eyes read over the letter, unable to read past the extravagant and unmistakable script adorning his mother’s name, right next to another he does not recognize.

 _“Matrimony,”_ Izumi reads aloud, enunciating every syllable in disbelief, and Obito looks at the girl, the looks of shock on their expressions mirroring one another. The hopelessness in her eyes needle at the lock on his memories. _“Matrimony,”_ she repeats breathlessly, slowly backing away from the older male, from the letter, from their mother’s name burned black into the paper of cream and gold, from the daffodil that watches them silently from its lifeless corona.

Obito immediately drops the letter, reaching out to touch the girl’s shoulder. “Izumi—” he tries, but she quickly steps away from his grasp, racing out of the room without another word. “Izumi!” he calls out, but his throat begins to strain, as if closing in on itself, and he winces in pain. His eyes fall to the discarded letter on the ground, his mother’s name big and bold, a glaring stain amongst the gold.

He feels a single tear slip from the corner of his eye, dropping onto the page and onto the little daffodil, degrading its petals into a dismal smudge of ash.

-

Kakashi blinks, a baffled look overcoming his features as he stares blatantly at the teen before him. He glances back at Mrs. Nara, unable to hide the disbelief on his face. “Are you serious?”

Mrs. Nara nods her head with a calculated sense of confidence, turning to her desk and sorting through some papers. “Gai is a wonderful student, well-rounded in all subjects and an excellent tutor who has successfully managed to help four other students significantly improve their grades this year.” Kakashi stares questioningly at the mentioned male for confirmation, but Gai immediately looks away, ears tinged a soft pink. “With the amount of work you’ve missed, I believe having a tutor will help you catch up in time for your exams. It’ll be a difficult journey without a doubt, but luckily, Gai _himself_ volunteered to—”

“Uhm!” Gai clears his throat, face an impossible shade of red as he cuts Mrs. Nara off. “I didn’t – well, I did, but I didn’t – uh – this isn’t, I didn’t—” Kakashi meets his eyes and he immediately splutters. _“Please take care of me!”_ He bows so aggressively it catches both Kakashi and their teacher off guard. Seconds pass, and he still hasn’t gotten up.

“Uh…shouldn’t I be asking _you_ that?” Kakashi says dumbly, watching as the other student timidly looks back up.

“S-Sorry,” Gai stammers. The longer Kakashi looks at him, the redder he gets.

Kakashi lets out a small sigh. He had assumed that over the course of the year, Gai would have gotten over whatever little crush he sported for him, but it appears as though he has not. Obito would probably find the entire situation amusing, if he were here to witness this. “Thanks…Mrs. Nara,” Kakashi utters with no real gratitude, nodding to his teacher in acknowledgement, if nothing else.

Mrs. Nara stares carefully at the two students for a moment before letting out a hum of approval. “I know things have been hard for you, Kakashi, but I expect to see improvement in the upcoming weeks ahead. If you want to have any hope of passing your exams, you better listen to Gai well.”

Kakashi swallows, forcing a stiff nod as his teacher dismisses them from her class. He knew she was right, that a tutor would be necessary if he were to accomplish anything past staring blankly at textbooks.

But that doesn’t mean he likes it.

He immediately turns around, exiting the classroom without so much as a single glance at his now-tutor, pulling his phone out and searching for Obito’s name in his contacts.

“Wait!” he hears, and Kakashi has to suppress the urge to groan. _“Wait for me!”_

Kakashi glances over his shoulder reluctantly, watching as Gai stumbles out of the classroom door and into the hallway, scratching his head awkwardly as he avoids Kakashi’s gaze. “What?” the latter questions, trying his best to mask his mild annoyance with the older student. Seconds of silence pass by without a single peep from his tutor, and Kakashi can feel his patience quickly wearing thin. The longer he stays in these hallways, the more he feels his composure chipper away.

“Uh…” Gai twiddles his fingers, gnawing on his lower lip as he searches for words. “When do you want to start meeting up?”

Kakashi shifts his weight from one foot to the other. “I don’t know? Shouldn’t you be the one deciding the hours? You’re the tutor,” he replies, crossing his arms impatiently. “I’m pretty much free every day anyways.”

Gai visibly gulps, nodding his head in understanding. “H-How about Tuesdays and Thursdays…after school?” he suggests in a high-pitched voice that betrays his uncertainty.

“Where?” Kakashi asks him next, feeling his head ache a little, and he runs a hand through his hair in an attempt to smooth out the slight pain.

Gai swallows again, eyes tracing Kakashi’s every movement. “Uh…we can go to my house,” he proposes, but he immediately shuts himself down when Kakashi raises a questioning eyebrow. “I mean! Uh! Anywhere! Where do you want to go?”

Kakashi stares at Gai for a moment before rolling his eyes, an aggravated sigh escaping his lips. Of all the people to tutor him, it had to be some awkward masochist. “Gai, I know you have a crush on me, Mr. _I’m-not-gay.”_

Gai’s face automatically pales. “Oh, Jesus—”

“I really don’t give a shit that you do,” Kakashi flatly states, “but if you don’t stop stuttering and fumbling over your words, I’m not going to let you tutor me.” Gai lets out a squeal of alarm. “Why would I let you tutor me if you can barely say five words without shitting your pants?” Kakashi snaps, watching as Gai grimaces. “I’m sorry, Gai, but if you want to work together, you have to get over this.”

“I-I will!” Gai insists, voice still shaky but a surprisingly determined look taking over his eyes. “I promise! I’m just a little – uh – a little nervous…I…uh…I’ll be better when we’re studying…serious, uh…”

Kakashi stares blankly at the other before rubbing a hand over his face to suppress another groan. He can physically feel his energy draining from his body with every stutter of Gai’s voice. _Good enough,_ he decides. “Yeah, okay. Whatever. Tuesdays and Thursdays. We can meet at my house, because I’d much rather be there than wherever you live, no offense.”

Gai gasps, cheeks a blossom of cherry red as his knees tremble. “Y-Your h-house? I—”

“Hatake Froyo,” Kakashi deadpans. “And I have a boyfriend, so don’t think this is the beginning of your weird and awkward love story.”

Disappointment seems to cause a pause in his shakes. “O-Oh, I—”

“See you tomorrow,” Kakashi says with a half-hearted wave, turning on his heels and taking off down the hall. _“God,_ what a mess,” he murmurs beneath his breath, pulling his phone out and checking the time. _Thirty minutes._ It really took half a fucking hour to sort out a tutor. _Ridiculous._

His temples throb with irritation, a surprisingly _intense_ amount of irritation that disorients his train of thought. He isn’t sure why he feels _this_ annoyed with his conversation with Gai. It wasn’t even much. Sure, the guy didn’t exactly make it hard to tire of him, but even just the simple sound of his breaths sparked Kakashi’s head with aggravation.

The entire day had gone by like that. In each class, he found himself growing more and more annoyed with all the noise around him. The girls gossiping in the front of the class, the boys cheering over their phones, the teachers droning on in the front as the clock ticked away its endless rhythm. Even the little noises, like the sounds of chairs scraping against the floors, markers squeaking against whiteboards, pages flipping and pencils dropping to the floor – every little sound filled Kakashi with an excessive amount of irritation. Every noise felt like a hammer to the head.

 _Overwhelmed,_ he tells himself, _I’m just overwhelmed._ It was his first day back at school in a long time, so of course his mind isn’t quite used to being around so many people again. _That has to be it,_ but he knows it isn’t. Not completely, it isn’t. He swallows a little, the ghost of the pills he took this morning trailing down his throat. They had been difficult to down, almost painful. Even after a couple glasses of water, it still felt as if they hadn’t been completely swallowed.

_What if they don’t work?_

Kakashi pauses in the middle of the hall, hands clenching into fists as he glares at the male in front of him.

“What if this is all for nothing?” Iruka asks him, eyes blinking in inquiry. “It’s only been a week and you already know what they’re doing to you. Is this really _better_ than what you were before?”

Kakashi opens his mouth to retort, but he stops, firmly reminding himself that Iruka isn’t real. He _isn’t there,_ and this is _all in his head._ He stands up straighter, tearing his gaze away from the hallucination and stepping past him. _He’s not real, he’s not real, he’s not real._

“At least before this, you were in control of yourself. _Full control,”_ he hears Iruka say, the voice trailing after him even as his steps quicken down the hall. Kakashi clenches his jaw. He’s not real, he’s not real. _“But look at you now._ You have to rely on some _pills_ just to feel normal? Just to feel like you _belong?_ Is that a way to live, Kakashi? Letting some tablets control who you are? _Is that how you want to live?”_

He hears the fan blades of a laptop scratch against metal frames once more, chairs scraping against floors, paintings laughing, hammers ringing against his temples. “Fuck _off!”_ Kakashi shouts, turning around despite his inner protests and meeting eyes with a very stunned-looking _Gai._

“S-Sorry!” Gai practically wails, immediately dipping his head into a bow that nearly hit his knees. “I’m not following you, I swear! I-It’s the closest exit—”

Kakashi stares dumbfoundedly at the older student, the fan slowing to its low whir, chairs settling in their places, and the ring in his head gradually subduing to shallower throbs. “Just…just go,” he forces himself to say as calmly as possible, but he can feel the irritation within him building up even quicker than before. He isn’t sure how much longer he can hold on before he explodes. He needs to get out of here, get out of the slur of noises racking his mind.

Gai quickly gets back up, scrambling down the hall and out of sight without another word. Kakashi does not watch him leave, instead eyeing the figure still standing before him.

Iruka’s outward expression remains neutral, but his eyes are filled with an eerie sense of _disappointment._ The sound of distant laughter echoes across the halls, head spinning with its rumble, nausea stirring in his gut. Kakashi swallows, and a particularly sharp ring causes him to wince.

 _“This isn’t you,”_ Iruka states with a censuring cadence, and Kakashi stumbles slightly, his balance broken by the disorienting shudders of his skull. “They’re changing you. Soon there will be nothing left.” His smile is hollow. _“Those pills are going to eat you alive.”_

-

“You look pathetic.”

Obito feels his temples throb slightly at the sound of the raspy voice. He glances up, meeting eyes with a very amused-looking Genma, the class president holding his phone out and immediately snapping a picture of the older male. Obito lets out a groan. “I’ll give you three seconds to delete that picture before I smash your phone against your face.”

“I’ll take my chances,” Genma quips with a snort, pocketing his phone and taking a seat next to Obito on the street curb. He glances briefly at the school across the parking lot before pulling a cigarette out. “Where’s Kakashi?” he suddenly asks. “I thought I saw him around earlier today. He’s finally back at school, huh?”

Obito grunts. “It’s his first day back. And he’s talking to a teacher right now or something,” he answers, pulling his phone out and glancing at the time. They are already running late, and he still has to pick Izumi up from her school as well. He had told Kakashi to _“Fuck what Mrs. Nara has to say,”_ since she always took _forever_ to get her points across anyways, but the younger male had simply flipped him off. “It’s taking him a fucking _eternity,_ too.”

Genma hums distractedly, exhaling a whiff of smoke. “How long has it been since he was last at school? Two weeks? Three?”

“Something like that,” Obito murmurs. He eyes the president’s cigarette, tongue suddenly tasting of smoke. “Give me one.”

Genma rolls his eyes, handing his pack to the other student begrudgingly. “How is he?” he questions next, watching as Obito lit up, the older male sitting back on his hands as the cigarette hangs between his lips.

“He could be better,” Obito murmurs, staring silently at the unmoving school building.

“No, I mean _how_ is he?”

Obito scoffs. “How is he what?”

“In bed?”

Obito inhales so hard he nearly chokes on his smoke. _“What?”_

He wants to punch the grin off of Genma’s face as soon as he sees it. “Come on,” Genma teases, and Obito stares incredulously back as the former lets out a boisterous laugh. “Come on, man! I know you banged him!”

“What the hell gave you that idea?” Obito counters in a tone of denial, fighting the heat off of his cheeks as he takes a distracting hit from his cigarette.

 _“Anyone_ with eyes can see the little hickey on Kakashi’s neck. The entire school’s been talking about it, and I think we _all_ know who probably put that there,” Genma says, a smug smirk on his lips as he watches Obito’s ears redden. “Why are you so embarrassed? It’s just me—”

“I’m embarrassed _because_ it’s you, god dammit,” Obito groans, rubbing his forehead in irritation. _“God,_ you always manage to make things weird no matter what they are.”

 _“Okay,_ but _how is he?”_ Genma insists again, cigarette forgotten between his fingers, and Obito lets out a very long, very loud sigh. “Like, is he good? Or is he average? Is he the type—“

“If you don’t stop asking me these stupid fucking questions, I’ll actually run you over on my way out of this fucking parking lot,” Obito mutters, glaring at the younger male who merely snickers in response. “Stupid ass school needs to learn to mind their own fucking business.”

“I know right?”

 _“Especially_ you, dumbass,” Obito retorts before taking a quick hit and blowing a puff of a smoke directly into Genma’s direction. The latter flinches, waving it away. “Kakashi needs to get his ass over here before I pull this hit and run.”

Genma gives him a cheeky grin, eyes amused. “So you guys are, like, together now, right?” Genma questions, and Obito gives him an annoyed look. “Come on, at least tell me that.”

Obito rolls his eyes. “Yeah. We are. Now fuck off.”

Genma lets out a snort, one that gradually morphs into an ugly laugh that forces Obito to close his eyes and count to ten. “I didn’t even know you were capable of actual human feelings. Congrats.”

“And I didn’t know you were capable of being this much of a little bitch, but I guess we were both wrong.”

Genma laughs again, elbowing Obito in the side, nearly causing the latter to drop his cigarette. “Don’t be like that, man. It’s cute. I’m glad you actually feel things. It’ll be a little less terrible to be around you now.”

“I actually cannot wait to run you over with my car,” the older mumbles.

“What was that?”

“Nothing.” Obito puts his cigarette out on the pavement below them. “Shouldn’t you be doing something presidential right now?”

“I am. I’m giving back to the little man and reaching out to my favorite supporter, Uchiha Obito,” Genma remarks, sarcasm lacing his tone. “In about an hour, I’m going to deliver a speech about how I’ll save our crumbling economy and then cut the ribbon that marks the grand opening of a brand new national park. Then I’ll…” Genma trails off as a shadow looms over them, and both males look up in confusion.

Dread immediately fills Obito’s system as Hidan stares down at him, arms crossed over his chest in an absurdly defiant manner. Memories of the party fill his head, Hidan’s withering voice, the absolute terror in his eyes, the absolute agony in Kakashi’s. So much has happened since then, the incident seeming to shrink in comparison. He would have greatly preferred to live the rest of his life without ever having to see Hidan’s fucking face again, but as always, life had a different plan for him.

“What the fuck do you want, Hidan?” Obito utters, aggravation clear in his voice as he works to rid his mind of those images. Genma does not bother to hide the distaste in his expression at the other student’s intrusion. The two students immediately get up to meet Hidan’s eye level, Genma tossing his cigarette down to the ground and stomping it out.

Hidan gives Genma a disinterested glance before fixing Obito with a look of disdain. “I saw your little boyfriend today.”

“So did everyone else in the fucking school,” Obito retorts. “You want a medal?”

Hidan scoffs, shaking his head in mock disappointment. “He looks just as deranged as I remembered,” he utters, and Obito’s glare immediately hardens. “Saw the cute little mark on his neck. Tell me, what’s it like to fuck a psychopath?”

Obito clenches his fists, a low growl emitting from his throat. “You’ve got a lot of fucking nerve to be talking about him like that after last time,” he utters warningly. “Always talking shit and acting like you’re any fucking better.” 

Hidan barks out a laugh. “At least I can tell the fucking difference between reality and my goddamn imagination. Tell that fucking degenerate to wake the fuck up—”

_“Fuck you.”_

“I don’t sleep with _faggots,”_ Hidan spits. “I can’t fucking _wait_ until Kakashi finally loses his mind, until all those voices in that empty head of his finally drive him to kill himself. He’d be doing the fucking world a favor—”

Obito roughly grasps Hidan by the collar, pulling an arm back to strike when Genma grabs him by the shoulder. _“Obito,”_ the class president hisses, eyes filled with warning. Obito catches a glimpse of a teacher exiting the building in his peripherals, and he immediately drops the other boy. Genma gives him a firm, somewhat comforting pat before running after the teacher, leaving Obito alone with the despicable male. 

Hidan smirks, adjusting his shirt and staring defiantly at the other male. “What’s wrong, Obito? Don’t love your little boyfriend enough to defend him?”

“You’re pathetic, Hidan.”

“And you’re just a perfect son-of-a-bitch, aren’t you?”

“Obito.”

Both students look up at the sound of the new voice, and Obito’s heart stutters in his chest at the sight of his boyfriend. Kakashi stands behind Hidan with a weary look in his eyes, shirt ruffled and sleeves frayed, hair looking as if he had been tugging on the strands, posture slumped in fatigue. The younger male only ever looked like that when he was struggling with his delusions. The sense of dread in Obito’s stomach only increases, but he finds himself unable to say a word.

Hidan’s look of shock quickly morphs into one of disdain. “Oh, look, it’s Alice, back from the rabbit hole,” he mocks. “It’s been a while. Last time I saw you, your nails were digging into my neck.”

Obito grimaces, suppressing the urge to shut Hidan up with his fist. Kakashi glances from Obito to Hidan, pupils finally dilating in recognition, discomfort immediately taking his features. “I’m…” he begins, biting his lip, clearly unsure of what to say, “sorry…”

“Sorry?” Hidan echoes, a sneer on his lips. “For _what,_ exactly?”

 _“Hidan,”_ Obito warns, taking a step forward, but the former merely scowls.

Kakashi shifts his weight from one foot to the other, conflict clear in his unfocused eyes. “I’m just…sorry,” he says once more, voice so forced and uneven. He looks torn, more confused than anything else, and Obito wants nothing more than to take the younger male away from here, away from _Hidan._ He can tell how terrible the day has treated his boyfriend, and an encounter with an asshole like Hidan definitely isn’t helping.

Hidan’s eyes bore into Kakashi’s. The latter tries to look away, but he does not let him. “Sorry you stepped on my shoes? Sorry you crushed my art project? Sorry you bumped into me in the hallways?” His eyes narrow. “Sorry you nearly _murdered me?”_

Kakashi grimaces, gaze falling to his shoes, guilt evident in the way he bites his lip. “I’m sorry,” he says again, quieter this time, and Obito feels anger boil in his system at the twisted smile on Hidan’s face. _This fucker doesn’t deserve an apology,_ he thinks bitterly to himself.

“Fuck off, Hidan,” Obito growls, grabbing the other male’s shoulder and roughly pulling him away from Kakashi. “You got what you fucking wanted. Leave us alone.”

Hidan pushes Obito’s hand away, ignoring his words, eyes trained on Kakashi, unrelenting, accusatory. _“Sorry?_ Is that all you got?” Hidan asks him incredulously. “You nearly killed me that night and all you have to say is _sorry?_ I think I deserve _more_ than _that,_ don’t you think?”

Kakashi’s stare suddenly hardens. “Well what do you want me to fucking say?” he suddenly snaps, hands clenching at his sides, and the haze in his eyes disappears, replaced instead with aggravation. “You want me to write a fucking essay about how _wrong_ I was? About how innocent _you_ are? What the hell do you want from me?”

“I want to know who the fuck you are and why the fuck you think you can mess with me.” Hidan growls, getting right into Kakashi’s face. The latter steps backwards in distaste. “You think you can get away with something like that? You think I’d let you walk free after pulling that shit? You’re a fucking _freak,_ and it’s time for you to learn just who the hell you’re messing with.” Obito hears alarms ring in warning in his head.

Kakashi’s glare sharpens. _“I’m not afraid of you.”_

Hidan sneers back. “You should be.” He then shoves Kakashi backwards, watching as the other student stumbles, nearly falling onto the ground.

Obito’s eyes widen. “Don’t fucking touch him, you son-of-a-bitch—”

“Disgusting, _entitled_ little prick,” Hidan shouts, spitting at the other male, the bubbling fluid landing between Kakashi’s shoes. “Everyone around here treats you like you’re so fucking special. I’m tired of hearing your name all of the goddamn time, you fucking psychopath.”

 _“Back off,”_ Kakashi warns through gritted teeth. “You don’t know _shit_ about me.” He crosses his arms over his chest, clearly becoming more and more exasperated with the situation. “And you’re calling _me_ entitled? Get your head out of your ass. I already apologized, you’re not getting fuck else from me.”

Hidan lets out a scornful laugh. “You think you’re so fucking tough, so fucking untouchable, don’t you? Is that what Obito tells you while you’re sucking his dick? _How fucking precious.”_

“Get a fucking _life,_ Hidan,” Obito bites, hands clenching into fists at his sides.

Kakashi’s eyes narrow, but he does not say anything more.

Hidan notices his silence, and the smirk on his face grows with contempt. “What’s wrong? Are you seeing something?”

Kakashi’s face morphs into that of confusion. “What?”

“Are you suddenly seeing things that aren’t there again? Am I suddenly an alien to you? Are you suddenly hearing fucking ghosts in your head?” Hidan barks out a dry laugh. “Hey, I heard you ran into the middle of an intersection not too long ago. Was it the voices again?” He scoffs. “It’s a shame no one was smart enough to hit you.”

Obito’s jaw clenches. _“Hidan,”_ he warns once more as Kakashi’s gaze wavers, face paling at the mere mention of that horrible day.

“And those _cuts,”_ Hidan taunts, reaching forward and roughly grabbing Kakashi by the wrist. He shoves the latter’s sleeve down before anyone else can react, Kakashi emitting a gasp as the scattered scars on his skin are exposed.

Obito’s eyes widen. “Let go of him!” he shouts, reaching forward once more, but his conscience warns him of the cameras outside of school, of how easy it’ll be for Hidan to get him expelled if he touches him again. _This is what he fucking wants,_ he bitterly realizes. _He wants to fuck us over, that fucking asshole._ Obito feels his nails digging into his palms from how hard he’s clenching his fists, suppressing the urge to strangle the abhorrent male.

“Fucking _disgusting,”_ Hidan mocks as his fingers dig into Kakashi’s thin arm. “How often do you cut yourself? Every night? Or only when the voices tell you to?” He shoves Kakashi back once more, watching as the other frantically moves to cover his wrists. Hidan lets out a scoff of ridicule. “What a tragic little basket case. No one can help a freak like you.” Something seems to break in Kakashi’s expression, face morphing into that of absolute _horror._ “Why don’t you just do yourself a fucking favor and just _kill yourself already?”_

Obito sees red as he lunges towards Hidan, grabbing the male by his shirt again and shoving him against a nearby wall. Hidan lets out a cough from the sheer force, but a challenging smirk remains on his face.

Kakashi seems to snap back into his senses, alarm evident in his gasp. “Stop it, Obito!” he shouts. “He’s not worth it!”

“I’m not going to fucking stand here and listen to his bullshit,” Obito snarls, grip tightening as Hidan’s grin only grows. “I’m tired of letting this asshole say and do whatever the fuck he wants, I—”

“He’s not worth getting expelled over!” Kakashi exclaims. “That’s all this asshole wants!”

Obito feels his body begin to shake, frustration causing his resolve to crumble. “But he fucking told you to—”

“I _know_ what he said,” Kakashi says, and his voice sounds strained, as if he’s fighting back his own anger. “But _please,_ Obito, I don’t want you getting expelled over this bullshit.”

“You better listen to your boyfriend, Obito,” Hidan sneers. Obito lets out a low growl, one that burns his throat, hoisting the other up just enough that his toes graze the ground. 

“Think about Izumi, think about what she’ll think if she finds out,” Kakashi tries to reason, eyes begging and Obito’s resolve finally shatters. _“Please,_ Obito.”

Obito’s eyes go dark as Hidan’s grin widens in satisfaction. The sight alone sickens him to the core. He glares at Hidan for a moment longer before finally releasing him and taking a reluctant step back. He forces himself to turn back around, catching the small and pained but thankful smile on his boyfriend’s face.

“Forget him,” Kakashi breathes. “Let’s just go.”

 _“Fucking faggots,”_ Hidan says with a ridiculing laugh, and Obito feels his skin crawl with the words, noticing the way Kakashi’s shoulders stiffen. “Hey, Obito, tell that spineless father of yours I said hi,” he suddenly says, and Obito’s heart nearly stops beating in his chest.

“Go to hell,” Obito utters, but he can feel panic beginning to rise in his system, catching the sick look of pleasure in Hidan’s eyes.

“And tell your mother to close her legs, alright? Who knows how many men have fucked that whore since—”

“Don’t you _dare_ talk about her,” Obito warns, voice chillingly low, and Kakashi stares at him in confusion. “Don’t you _dare_ talk about my fucking family.”

 _“Family?”_ Hidan echoes in feigned surprise. “What _family?_ You mean your slut of a mother and deadbeat father? _Wait,”_ Hidan starts, and his eyes spark sadistically, Obito’s breath leaving his lungs, _“he isn’t even your father!_ That’s right, I almost forgot! You’re a _bastard!”_

Obito feels his blood go cold with the words, but before he can say another word, Kakashi pushes right past him. Time seems to freeze as the younger male grabs Hidan by his collar, fist swinging forward and colliding into the other’s face. Obito’s eyes widen as he watches Hidan fall to the pavement with a rough _thud,_ a panicked cry escaping the latter’s lips.

Obito loses his words.

“Get up,” Kakashi demands, and Hidan scrambles backwards in fear, a hand clutched against his bruising face. _“Get up,”_ he repeats through clenched teeth, voice lowering to an almost menacing pitch. 

“You’re fucking _insane!”_ Hidan screams, flinching when Kakashi’s glare sharpens. “Don’t fucking touch me!”

“Get _up!”_ Kakashi shouts with such a force it makes even Obito jump, the latter watching the scene unravel in absolute shock. “What? You have the fucking nerve to spread _lies_ like that, but not to face _me? Get up,_ you fucking coward.”

 _“Lies?”_ Hidan repeats incredulously, and Obito’s throat dries, his knees beginning to feel weak as those locked up memories begin to seep through the cracks of his mind. “As if I give enough of a shit about Obito to make up lies like that—”

“I don’t believe you,” Kakashi grits. He looks to Obito for confirmation, but when the older male is unable to respond, his confidence breaks into shock.

The world seems to spin beneath Obito’s feet. 

_“He’s a bastard!”_ Hidan shouts out, voice cracking as he scrambles to his feet. “Obito’s mother is a fucking _whore_ who took his father’s money and ran! He’s a bastard, you psychotic motherfucker, he’s a worthless _bastard_ with nothing to his name in this town but that infamous _bitch.”_

His words echo through the silent air, what’s left of the chains around his memories burning to ash. Kakashi seems at a loss for words, and when he glances back at Obito, the older male is unable to do anything but look away. All those memories, all the screams and shouts, begin to flood Obito’s mind, those god-awful memories he kept locked deep within the darkest corners of his brain, bursting through the cracks, cascading over every crevice, every dip and slope, until all he remembers is his mother, his father, the screaming, the shouting, the crying, the letter, the divorce, the _truth._

Hidan does not wait for a response. He immediately gathers himself together and runs off in another direction with a final meaningless curse to the air, but the damage is already done. Obito feels as if he’s going to hurl.

“Obito?” Kakashi whispers, unable to hide the shock in his eyes. Obito finally musters enough self-control to stare back at him pathetically, but he immediately regrets it, the younger’s shaking eyes only serving as a mirror of his own faults, his own scars. His phone suddenly rings in his pocket, and he slowly takes it out, staring blankly at the name on the screen.

_Mom._

He does not think as a shout of agony rips from his lungs, tearing the chords in his throat, his phone shattering into pieces as he smashes it on the ground.

-

The drive to Izumi’s school is silent.

Obito’s eyes are trained on the road, unwilling to blink, hands gripping the steering wheel with such intensity it numbs his fingers. Kakashi does not face him, his own empty stare fixed on the horizon outside of the car window, watching distantly as building after building drifts by. Neither teen is willing to speak, tension too thick to breathe in without wincing.

It isn’t until the car stops outside of his little sister’s school does Obito let go of the wheel, slowly reaching for his phone to inform his sister of their arrival, only to remember how he had destroyed the device in a fit of fury. A sense of dread overwhelms him, causing his shoulders to sag as he realizes what he has to do now. He glances sheepishly at the student beside him, swallowing down his unease as he musters up the courage to speak. “Could I…borrow your phone?”

Kakashi does not move.

 _Shit._ “Kakashi?” When the younger male still refuses to speak, Obito lets out a deep sigh, leaning back against his seat, fatigue evident in his slump.

They sit in strained silence for a few moments more before Kakashi finally decides to acknowledge him. His voice is thin, void of emotion. “Why didn’t you tell me?” 

Obito closes his eyes, brows creasing together ever so slightly. “It never came up.” It sounds pathetic, even to him.

 _“It never came up,”_ Kakashi echoes blankly before letting out a contemptuous scoff. “Right, _my bad,_ I should have just looked for Genma and had _him_ dig up information about your past for me. My mistake.”

Obito flinches, the reminder of his dishonest practice like a deep jab to the stomach. He glances over at the younger male with tired eyes. “I didn’t mean it like that—”

“Weren’t you the one who insisted that we _trust_ each other or something?” Kakashi wonders flatly, gaze never leaving the window beside him. “Or maybe I just _imagined_ that conversation, too.”

“Kakashi, please,” Obito pleads, voice so winded and exhausted. “Don’t do this to me.”

“Do _what?”_ Kakashi finally turns to look at him, but his eyes are sharp and accusing. _“Sure,_ it was fine when _you_ got all angry and yelled at me for hiding things from you, but suddenly when _you’re_ keeping secrets, I can’t even be a _little_ pissed off? How the hell am I supposed to feel?” 

Obito lets out a sigh, shoulders drooping in defeat. “I’m sorry, okay? I know it isn’t fair, but it just…it just never came up.” The excuse is stupid, and he knows it.

“Oh, _fuck off,”_ Kakashi utters, pulling his phone out and roughly handing it to the older male. “At least you know how _I_ fucking felt now, when you accused me that day. Feels like _shit,_ doesn’t it?” He crosses his arms as soon as Obito takes his phone, turning to glare outside of the window again. “Whatever. I’m mad at you. Don’t talk to me.”

Obito gapes dumbly at Kakashi for a moment, unsure of how to respond (or if he should even _try_ to) before letting out another tired sigh, yielding to the younger male’s words. He dials in Izumi’s number, waiting restlessly for the girl to answer. He distractedly taps his fingers on the console as he waits for his sister to pick up, taking furtive glances at his boyfriend every few seconds. “Izumi,” he manages to murmur when he hears the girl pick up, “we’re outside.”

There’s no sound on the other line for a moment, and Obito wonders if she had really taken his call. “… _I’m already home,”_ she finally answers quietly, Obito’s expression immediately dropping into a frown of confusion. _“Dad picked me up.”_

Obito inhales sharply, grip tightening around the phone ever so slightly. “…Okay,” he breathes, and he sounds so worn out, so _defeated._ “I’ll be home soon.”

As soon as he hears Izumi’s hum, he hangs up, staring blankly at the phone for a moment. _Dad picked me up._ He hated hearing those words. But they had been late, and he supposes that at least Izumi had gotten home safely.

His hand moves to return the device to Kakashi before he pauses, veering to hover over the gearshift, then back to Kakashi, then over the gearshift, then to Kakashi again, almost comically uncertain. He isn’t sure if he can speak or not. “…Kakashi—”

Kakashi suddenly turns to face him again. _“Why didn’t you tell me?”_ he asks him, eyes still hardened with anger, but the waver in his voice gives away the hurt he feels. Obito’s own expression softens at the sound. “I wouldn’t have judged you. Why would I, of all people?”

He stares at Kakashi for a moment, the latter staring back silently. Seconds pass until Obito is no longer able to bear the betrayed look in his boyfriend’s eyes, and he looks back down in sudden shame. “I know,” he murmurs, a quiet apology. “I know you wouldn’t have.” He slides his thumb over the screen of Kakashi’s phone, briefly catching sight of his own pitiful reflection, immediately holding it out for the other to take. “It’s not an easy thing to admit.” A bitter smile strains his lips. “I doubt anyone is comfortable introducing themselves as their mother’s _bastard_ child.”

Kakashi wordlessly takes his phone back, slipping it into his pocket before leaning to the side, resting his head against the window. He allows a short pause before speaking again, “You always talked so much about how terrible your…” He hesitates, _“father_ …is…but you never bothered to at least point out that he…that he isn’t…” He bites his lip awkwardly, glancing over at Obito with shamefully apologetic eyes.

Obito exhales through his nose – he really should have gotten used to such inconveniences by now. “He wasn’t always terrible,” he murmurs, and his mind wanders over to summers spent running in the grass, twirling through sprinklers and catching rainbows through the mist. “He was fine until he found out. Until we _all_ found out.” His eyes fill with resentment. “I grew up thinking the man was my father the entire time, but honestly, even after discovering the truth, I _still_ consider him that way, horrible as he is. But that’s only because I have no one else in my fucking life to take that place. I never got to meet my _real_ dad either. I don’t know if I ever will.”

Kakashi is quiet, seemingly in thought. “I was…under the impression that your mother was an honest woman,” he confesses carefully. “You barely ever talk about her. What exactly did she do?”

Obito grimaces. “She’s… _naïve.”_ He swallows, the simplistic description paining him more than he’d like to admit. “Naïve…but selfish. Hidan was being an overzealous asshole, but he wasn’t completely wrong about her either.” Obito glances up through the windshield, watching as small groups of middle school students filter out of the school building, memories of that messy year replaying over and over again. Memories he had preferred locked up, but it is unavoidable now. “At some point, I guess she stopped loving…my father. I…I actually heard a rumor that said that she had me before they officially married, but nobody knows who the real father was. That’s the one fucking rumor in this town I _wish_ I could hear. Regardless, she stopped loving him, she had me with another man, she didn’t tell the asshole that I wasn’t his, and then she married him anyways.” He lets out a miserable sigh, resting his stiffened hand against the armrest. “She thought that would be the end of it, that she could get away with her one little secret, and she almost did.”

Kakashi looks as if he’s waiting for Obito to say more, but when he doesn’t, he asks, “What about Izumi?”

Obito can’t help the sad smile that crosses his face at the mention of his sister. It seems as if no matter what, her name will only ever bring him sorrow. “That’s how they found out.” He nods his head at the irony, unable to do anything more than agree dejectedly with the terrible twist of fate. “She was born prematurely, very small and sickly. Even as a little six or seven-year-old, I can still remember how small she was…She needed a blood transfusion, and…she’s type O.” Obito swallows. “My…father’s AB.”

Kakashi frowns for a moment, confusion evident in his eyes until realization forces his mouth to open in understanding.

Obito smiles again, bitterly, this time. “So you can see why he had reason to suspect her. But he didn’t say anything back then. It wasn’t until a few years later, after a particularly terrible fight did he finally bring the strange subject back up.” He remembers how his father had brought in some fancy-looking DNA testing kit. He had just learned what DNA was in school, and he had foolishly thought that it was just some fun little experiment. Obito hadn’t known that the results that would come months later would change his life forever.

“I don’t know why he held out for so long,” Obito continues. “I guess he just didn’t want to believe it, not while he still loved her so terribly. And my mother acted like she loved him back for so long…so _fucking_ long. But then she dropped the act. And the fights started. The yelling, the screaming, the crying. And then the tests finally came in, and she had no choice but to confess.” Obito lets out an empty laugh. “Can you imagine that? I was probably ten or something, when we found out. Can you imagine finding out that the man you called your father your entire life was as related to you as your fucking neighbor?” He lets out a scornful scoff. “But even worse, can you imagine being so _in love_ with someone for _years,_ only to find out that she had been cheating on you the entire time? Only to discover that neither of your children is really _yours?”_ He shakes his head with an exaggerated amount of pity. “I fucking hate that man, but…I get it. I get why he’s so fucking dead. She ripped him apart.”

Kakashi stares at him, sorrow in his eyes. The questions seem to sting him almost as much as they hurt Obito. He looks as if he doesn’t know what to say next. “You…you said she didn’t do anything to him, the last time I asked you about her,” he softly says, almost timidly, and when Obito looks at him, he carefully asks, “Why did you lie to me?”

Obito’s gaze falls. “I didn’t want to talk about it back then,” he admits just as quietly, shame evident in his tone. “I never wanted to talk about this again. I spent _years_ hearing it spewed out of the mouths of my friends, my classmates, my neighbors, even complete _strangers._ Every day I was reminded of what I _really_ was, just how fucking _unwanted_ I was, and as the divorce was being filed, I spent every day knowing that I…Izumi and I were the cause. _We were so happy,”_ his voice cracks with his words, and he forces himself to swallow, “or at least I thought we were, until then.”

Kakashi is quiet, his breaths trembling as if he is holding something back. “You aren’t unwanted,” he finally says, voice barely above a strained whisper. “And it wasn’t your fault.”

Obito smiles bitterly at the younger male, shaking his head mournfully. “If I wasn’t unwanted, my father wouldn’t have thrown us away the moment he found out the truth. And my mother wouldn’t have left us behind. And if I hadn’t been born…” Obito bites his lip, “maybe my mom wouldn’t have felt obligated to marry him. Maybe all of these things could have been prevented. My existence is just a reminder to the both of them, a reminder of so many years wasted, a reminder of irreversible mistakes.”

“You can’t blame yourself for that,” Kakashi says, sitting up straighter as he attempts to meet Obito’s shaking eyes. “Obito, you _can’t._ It’s your _mother’s_ fault. She was the one who cheated, she was the one who messed things up, not _you_ or Izumi! These things were out of your control, you had no choice in the matter! You said it yourself, these things, the burdens we were born with, they aren’t our faults.”

Obito lets out a shaky breath, unbelieving, but he relents. “Even so, that doesn’t change the fact that I’ve felt this way for years now.” His eyes suddenly sharpen with hatred. “It’s been a while since I’ve heard the damn subject anyways. Fucking _Hidan._ That fucking _asshole.”_ He lets out a frustrated growl, his anger starting to steer his words. “It was the only thing this stupid town talked about for an entire year before they found a new fucker to judge. Everywhere I walked, everywhere I turned, _‘isn’t that the bastard child?’ ‘God, if I were her husband, I wouldn’t even be able to look at him.’ ‘Who do you think his real father is?’ ‘How can you even love something that isn’t yours?’ ‘Oh, what a shame, what a shame those poor kids are.’”_

Obito feels his eyes begin to water with every recitation, all those empty faces watching his every move, but he quickly blinks to rid himself of such shame and _weakness,_ instead letting years of vexation guide his words. He recalls the days he began lashing out, striking those who dared to taunt him, returning home with bloodied knuckles and sore throats from screaming out his frustrations.

“Izumi, Izumi, too.” His voice is filled with derision. “These fucking idiots don’t ever know when to shut their mouths. She was so young, too young to understand. But they still talked about her like she was some sort of… _object_ …just the meaningless product of a horrible affair. She didn’t even understand why our parents were yelling at each other, why our mother suddenly left, why our father wouldn’t talk to us anymore.” Obito’s hand moves to the gearshift, foot stamped against the brakes as he forced the car into drive. “They left me…those fucking _assholes_ …they left me to explain it all, left me to break the news to her, to explain to her why our parents don’t love us, why everywhere we turn we aren’t children to these strangers anymore, we’re just a couple of discarded, unwanted _bastards.”_ He lets out a shout of fury, knuckles white as he punches the steering wheel, the small car blasting its horn and startling the few people outside.

Obito’s chest heaves as he breathes, his pressure on the brakes increasing as his temper slowly increases. All those faces, the judgmental eyes, the laughter, the ridicule, _years_ of pretending they didn’t affect him, _years_ of pretending he didn’t give a damn, _years_ and _years_ and _years_ of lies hammering aches into his temples, rendering his vision red. He lets out a shaky breath, deciding that enough was enough, and he moves his hands onto the sides of the steering wheel, unable to bear the sight of the middle school, the desire to drive, drive, drive away from the miserable place that turned him into this, _this_ good-for-nothing, worthless, impetuous and violent—

Kakashi’s hand settles on his, prodding his fingers from the wheel, and Obito’s muscles go limp as Kakashi coaxes him to let go. “You’re more than that to me, Obito,” he whispers. “You’re so much more than what you think you are. It’s a shame that all these people, all these superficial assholes fail to see you past your parents’ mistakes. Sometimes I even hear them,” he admits regretfully. “Uchiha Obito, the kid who solves his problems by picking fights and screaming curses. They’re all against you, they act like they can’t believe someone can be so unstable, as if they’re helping the problem by resenting it.” A small smile graces his lips. “People hate what they don’t understand. It’s pathetic.”

Obito is silent, unable to say anything, unable to do anything more than listen to Kakashi’s quiet words. “People are so cruel, no matter where you go,” he continues softly. “And life can be so unfair. I came here to get away from people like that, but they’re _everywhere._ I’ve hated myself for so long, thinking that maybe I was doing something wrong, thinking that maybe I really did do something to deserve this pain, that I just don’t know how to handle myself or _grow up._ Maybe that’s why no one wants to help me, why all they do is point and laugh whenever I start to break down. And I still think that.” Obito feels his own heart breaking with his boyfriend’s words, and he sees two children, two broken children trudging down empty sidewalks. He swallows down the urge to cry again.

Kakashi lets out a shaky laugh, continuing, “It’s hard. When you’re angry, when you’re frustrated, you want to find _something_ to blame. You become desperate, you become irrational, and your problems only grow because all you’re doing is looking for _something_ to blame, something to temporarily relieve yourself of all the pain. I wish there were answers, I wish _someone,_ a _god,_ a _spirit,_ _anyone_ could tell us why we have to hurt like this, and why, why, _why_ us?” He shakily smiles once more, and it’s so sincere, yet so bittersweet that Obito feels his own anger begin to numb. “But whoever’s out there, whoever’s pulling the strings and doing this to us…maybe I really am just crazy, because despite it all, I’m still glad.”

Obito blinks in confusion, all previous emotions dissipating as he gives the younger male a questioning glance. His mind slowly begins to clear up, and Kakashi merely smiles back, reaching forward and brushing a strand of Obito’s hair from his forehead. “I’m glad that they…that our lives at least spared us _this._ That they at least gave us each other.”

Obito feels his heart melt, and his eyes immediately soften, his previous anger dissipating into pure love. Kakashi and his words are just so damn _beautiful,_ heartbreakingly so, and his problems seem to vanish, if only for a minute. But it’s enough.

“I love you,” he breathes suddenly. “I love you, and I know you’re probably still mad at me, but I really want to kiss you right now.” He leans towards his boyfriend, a hand resting lightly on the latter’s thigh. “Please let me kiss you.”

Kakashi looks surprised for a moment, but then he lets out a light laugh, leaning over to meet his lips in a soft kiss. “I love you, too, asshole.” His cheeks are slightly flushed, and he gives the older male a playful punch to the shoulder. “Now stop looking so sad and take me home already. It’s late as fuck.”

A grin spreads over Obito’s face, but he settles back against his seat with a nod.

His shoulders feel lighter.

There is still pain in his heart, a lingering ache that can never quite go away, the reminders of his cursed life surrounding him simply for living. The pain is still there, yes, but Kakashi has a way of at least easing it. Simply by being himself.

Obito is thankful for him, too.


	11. Chapter 11

Obito carefully closes the door behind him, furtively scanning the interior of his home, trying to make as little noise as possible as he attempts to sneak back to his room for the night. It was actually quite late, later than Obito had realized, and he silently cursed himself for getting so carried away.

He pauses when he hears movement, and he glances up towards the kitchen, squinting his eyes when he spots the man he calls his father by the sink. Obito watches as he turns the faucet on, washing his hands serenely under the stream. The student steps closer, noticing the camera sitting on the counter beside his father in slight curiosity.

His father has been home far more often than usual as of late. The fact that he had been there to pick Izumi up from school instead of him unsettled Obito on different levels, his unease around the man still just as unrelenting as ever. He grimaces a bit, recalling the confrontation with Hidan earlier that day, and a small curse escapes his lips. _Spineless. Worthless. Foolish._

The camera stares at him as he approaches the man in the kitchen. It is unfamiliar, and Obito tries to recall another time in which he may have seen it. When he cannot remember any, he scowls a little to himself, deeming the object yet _another_ one of his father’s selfish exploits. He really needs to find a job, Obito briefly reminds himself. His father is far too unpredictable to depend on.

“Where’s Izumi?” is Obito’s greeting as he steps into the kitchen, leaning against the entryway with his arms crossed over his chest.

His father seems unbothered by his presence. “In her room,” he answers simply, never once turning from the sink, his hands continuing to scrub beneath the faucet. “It’s quite late. She may be going to bed now, so I wouldn’t disturb her.”

Obito frowns, glancing back down the hallway towards his little sister’s room. The lights are still on, peeking from beneath her closed door. He’s brought out of his momentary trance when his father speaks again.

“Where have you been all day? I was awfully worried about you,” the man says, and when Obito turns back around to look at him, he’s surprised to find his father staring directly at him. 

The sink is still running.

The camera is still staring.

Obito freezes, the tone in his father’s voice strange…very much empty, but even more so than usual, with an indescribable edge. He cannot quite place it, but Obito is careful not to show his unease. “Why do you care?” he mutters, maintaining his apathetic composure.

“It’s just so late, and you didn’t come home,” his father replies breezily, turning the faucet off, the lever squeaking miserably. “I tried calling you.” He pauses for a moment before facing Obito again. “Where is your phone?” He eyes him once more, a surprising amount of suspicion evident in his pupils, and Obito feels his discomfort rise.

But he swallows down his nerves, staring defiantly back at his father, unblinking. He pulls the remains of his phone out of his pocket, letting it drop onto the small table to the side. His father’s eyes never leave his own despite the clattering noise. 

A stiff smile appears on the man’s lips. “That was quite an expensive phone, Obito.”

Obito frowns. “Someone knocked it out of my hand,” he states monotonously, but he knows his father does not believe him. “I’ll be using my old one again.” His eyes are challenging, as if daring the man to question him more.

His father stares at him for a little longer, smile permanently stitched on as he concedes, nodding. “Very well. Good night.” He swiftly grabs the camera from the counter, taking light but quick steps past Obito, disappearing down the hall and into his darkened room.

Obito does not move, gaze falling from where his father had been to the smashed phone beside him. His heart suddenly thumps deeply in his chest, and he isn’t sure where his sudden anxiety is coming from. The image of his father’s empty smile appears before his mind once again. It is almost frustrating, growing up around those meaningless grins and still not having a label for them. He cannot read the man no matter how hard he tries.

He shakes his head, ridding himself of the chills he feels on his skin, instead deciding to focus on Izumi. Despite what his father said, he decides to go see the girl anyways, to at least wish her a good night. Obito pushes off the wall, guiding himself towards his sister’s room and giving the door a light knock.

Obito frowns when he hears no response, but he didn’t expect one anyways. He gently pushes the door open, peeking inside. _“Izumi?”_ he calls out carefully, slowly stepping in. He hears no protests, no movement, and he finally allows himself inside. His shoulders drop immediately upon seeing the younger girl. “Izumi,” he says again, sadly this time, her motionless state breaking his heart.

She lies still in her bed, curled form against crinkled sheets, fingers clenching white. Discarded papers surround her, letters and envelopes and pictures, wrinkled and dampened with tears. Her eyes do not leave the letter that lies right by her nose, and Obito recognizes its golden designs immediately. He notices the shoebox he usually stashed his mother’s unopened letters at the foot of his sister’s bed, and he lets out a sigh of remorse.

“Izumi,” he says once more, stepping forward and holding a hand out. “Give me that, it’s only hurting you—”

“She writes longer letters to you,” she suddenly says, voice cracking as she speaks, and the tear stains on her cheeks darken with more. “She uses fancier words, a prettier pen. Her letters to you are so much longer than the ones she sends to me.” She sniffs, shifting a little, and a few opened and unopened envelopes slip off of the bed and onto the floor. “It only reminds me that she hasn’t been here. For so long now.”

Obito pauses, lamenting his sister’s pain and this suffocating day. “It’s late. You shouldn’t do this to yourself so late at night.”

Izumi shakes her head slightly, her bangs shading her eyes. She shifts again, Obito’s shoebox unsettling at the end of the bed from the slight disturbance. “I know it isn’t much, but I’m old enough now to understand the things she writes to you.” She swallows, licking her chapped lips. “But she doesn’t seem to realize that. She tells me how magical the beaches she visits are, and she tells you of how sorry she is for leaving us. She tells me how I’ll meet my own prince charming one day, and she tells you that she will never regret her choices, only the pain she has given us.” She lets out a shaky breath, finally meeting eyes with Obito from across the room. “She still treats me like I’m a little kid. It’s like she doesn’t know. Like she doesn’t realize just how much time has passed by since she’s been gone.”

Obito feels a pang in his chest, and he moves towards the bed, picking up one of the opened letters addressed to him, eyes skimming through the long paragraphs in silence. “She’s always seen things differently from us,” he mumbles after a moment, thumbing the corners of the page. “I’ve never read any of these.”

“I know,” Izumi breathes. “She knows, too. Sometimes she asks me how you’re doing. I usually tell her the same things, because she usually tells me the same meaningless things.” She shifts to sit up against the headboard, pulling her legs up and hugging them close to her chest. The wedding invitation shines under her bedroom lights, and Obito forces himself to look away from its burning glow.

“A part of me always thought she’d come back,” Izumi confesses quietly, and Obito’s hands clench against his lap. “Maybe one day, like those glittery fairy tales she likes to send to me. She’ll show up at our door on a pretty pink horse, her hair waving gently with the wind, her hand stretched out to hold mine.” A sad smile graces the girl’s lips. “I’m old enough to know that she won’t, but I guess I’m still young enough to stupidly believe that she will.”

Obito feels the silence settle on his shoulders, encumbering, too afraid to break it. Guilt suddenly fills his system. He’s never read a word of his mother’s letters, his inability to forgive the woman who fooled them all oppressing any urges to entertain her thoughts. But of course Izumi had been reading the ones addressed to her, and he should have expected her to one day find his. He hadn’t anticipated such a difference in depth either, and he can only imagine how horrible it must feel. How unimportant his little sister must feel. He feels regret, having neglected those letters now that he sees how much Izumi has held on to them after all of these years.

“I’m sorry,” Obito utters, because he isn’t sure what he can say.

Izumi smiles. “I get why you didn’t want to read them…but if you had, you would have seen this coming.” She gestures towards the wedding invitation, and the daffodil blinks blankly back at him. “She’s been in love with her prince charming for a long time now. She doesn’t bother to hide that in your letters. I almost couldn’t continue them—”

“Then don’t,” Obito weakly says.

Izumi shakes her head. _“I had to._ She _is_ coming back, Obito,” she whispers, and her eyes well up with tears once more. Obito freezes at her words, feeling his heart drop in his chest in anxiety. “She _is_ coming back, but only to get married. She wants to get married in her hometown, she wants to get married _here.”_

Obito’s shoulders tense up, the room suddenly feeling huge and empty, his head throbbing as it struggles to register the news. The shock of it all renders him speechless. Izumi sobs silently beside him, her small hands wiping at her swollen eyes, her tear-streaked cheeks.

He does not even remember his mother’s face.

Her voice, her smile. He does not remember anything about the woman who patched his scraped knees, who sang him to sleep on stormy nights. He does not remember anything but the screams and the shouts, the ridiculing names, curses he did not recognize, curses that followed him until they plagued his darkened eyes with sleepless nights, broken his skin with fists of blinded fury.

“When?” he manages to ask, but he feels weak, _so weak and scared._

Izumi lets out a shaky breath, chasing her tears away with every delicate exhale. Finally, she gathers her strength into a single word, _“December.”_

Obito closes his eyes, and he feels the cold of the winter in the middle of spring.

-

_ Two weeks. Six days. _

Kakashi thickly swallows, and he feels the sharp burn of his own bile slither down his dried throat.

_ Two weeks. Six days. _

His eyes are trained on the ceiling, following the little green dots that burrow themselves in the surface.

_ Two weeks. Six days. _

He feels a slight sting on his lashes, but he remains unblinking, unmoving, sprawled over his bed sheets.

_ Two weeks. Six days. _

The lights flicker on, and a figure stands over his bed.

_ Two weeks. Six days. _

_ “This isn’t you,” _ the figure murmurs, and it sounds so familiar, _so familiar,_ but he cannot place it, and neither does he bother to look to affirm it. He barely registers the voice at all, vision hazed in an empty white.

_ “They’re changing you,” _ another one speaks.

_ “Is this really better?” _ questions one more.

_ “They’re going to drain you—” _

_ “—until there’s nothing left—” _

_ “—but a broken boy—” _

_ “—and his quiet fall—” _

The alarm on his dresser blares, slicing through the white noise, and the aphids drop from the ceiling.

_ Two weeks. Six days. _

He reaches out without looking, grabbing the white box beside his bed and allowing the sheets of tablets to fall onto his chest.

The figures continue to murmur. The alarm continues to ring. But they’re nothing but bits of dust clinging to his peripherals. They fade with every blink into a simmering hum, a distant mist.

His eyes are hollow as he pops a tablet out, pressing the tiny bead between his lips.

When he swallows, it burns, too.

_ Three weeks. _

-

  


Kakashi’s hand refuses to move.

His grip on the pencil is so tight he can feel his fingers go numb. His stare begins to burn as his hand starts to shake, graphite etching the pattern of his tremors into the paper. His breaths are thin, ears ringing with an emptiness, a quiet murmur too deafening, and even the images of his handwriting scratched across the page begin to tremble.

“…K-Kakashi?”

Kakashi freezes, grip loosening, pencil dropping to the surface of the desk. He stares blankly at the object before finally forcing himself to look back up. Gai looks at him with nervous yet questioning eyes, but Kakashi is only able to blink back.

“D-Do you need help?” his tutor offers timidly, gesturing towards the problem sheet staring silently back at Kakashi. “I…I know I said to t-try it by yourself, b-but…if it’s really that difficult, I can—”

“It’s fine,” Kakashi interrupts him, but as he stares at the list of improper integrals and limits, his focus seems to dwindle. “I can…I can do this.” He clenches his jaw, feeling the beginnings of frustration prickle at his temples, and he picks his pencil up once more, returning to the problem from before.

He does not actually pay attention to what he is writing, hand moving for him, linking numbers and symbols together on their own accord. Gai glances over, biting his lips as he skims over the other student’s work. Kakashi can feel his eyes on him, but he does not bother to look up, moving on to the next problem just as automatically, expression blank, fingers white from the suffocating grip he holds his pencil with.

“Uhm,” Gai starts again, gesturing towards the question Kakashi had just finished. “Number thirteen actually diverges, n-not converges. T-The theorem only works if the limit equals zero—” He stops himself when the tip of Kakashi’s pencil suddenly snaps. “Oh, _gosh,_ here!” His tutor frantically scrambles through his bag for another pencil, quickly handing it to the younger male, an apologetic blush staining his cheeks. “I-I’m sorry, I…I’ll just stay quiet until you f-finish…and t-then we can go o-over it together—”

His vision seems to go white for a split second. “No,” Kakashi forces himself to say, letting the pencil lifelessly fall. _“No_ …it’s fine. I…I just need…” He bites his lips hard enough to feel a bit of flesh tear away. “I just need a break.”

Gai stares quietly at the younger male, looking as if he wants to say something, but he stops himself. The concern in his eyes translates into his voice. “Are you sure?”

Kakashi suddenly gets up, chair scraping against the tiled floors with an unbearable screech, and Gai flinches. “Yes.” He does not bother to wait for the other’s reply, quickly turning and rushing towards the bathroom in the corner of the shop.

He shoves the door open, the dimmed yellow lighting within the tiny bathroom casting shadows beneath his eyes. His bangs brush against his lashes with every blink as he stares into the mirror, and as soon as the door shuts behind him, he grabs the sink, purchasing himself against its ceramic surface.

His eyes trace the skin on his face as his fingers trail against his features. Over the tip of his nose, against his chapped lips, brushing past the slight bumps and blemishes on his skin. He gently touches his cheek, pressing softly against the tissue, eyes watching as his finger sinks into the flesh. Kakashi drops his hands, letting them rest against the sink once more as he bites his lips, gaze dropping to his stomach.

His shirt clings against his body, but the slight curve, the quiet crease seems too surreal. The floor seems to spin beneath him for a moment, and he forces himself to look back up at his reflection. His eyes refuse to focus, two eyes becoming four, one body becoming two.

Kakashi then forces himself to look at the sink, catching the sight of a little green antennae peeking from the faucet. He quickly turns the water on, watching the little creatures wash away, unblinking, hands cupping the cool liquid. He watches the water pool between his fingers, flooding out and dripping into the sink before splashing himself in the face.

The water is too cold.

He gazes blankly at his reflection, at the droplets that cling to his eyelashes and drip from the tip of his nose. He half expects something, but he isn’t sure what. When he swallows, it is all he can hear.

His phone suddenly rings, and Kakashi waits a few moments, unable to tear his eyes away from his own. A few more rings, and he finally picks up. “Hello?”

_ “Hey, Kakashi.” _

Kakashi blinks away the water in his eyes, swallowing once more, grimacing at the burn. “Hi, Obito.”

There’s a pause on the other line for a moment, and Kakashi waits silently for the older male to speak again. _“Are you still with Gai?”_

Kakashi inhales. “I am.”

_ “…Oh. I’ll just come back later, then—” _

“Come back?” He raises an eyebrow. “Are you outside?”

_ “…Maybe.” _

Kakashi is silent, considering his options for a moment before reaching for a paper towel and wiping the water from his face. “Just come in. I’ll just send Gai home early, since…since I can’t seem to concentrate anyways.” He crushes the paper towel together, tossing it into the trash. “…He’ll probably understand.”

Obito lets out a soft chuckle, one that rumbles the bass through the phone. _“Alright, see you.”_

“See you,” Kakashi murmurs back before hanging up. He stares at the screen for a moment, watching it fade to black before sliding it back into his pocket. His eyes trail back to his reflection, a hand reaching up to cup his cheek carefully. He feels his jaw clench in disapproval, and he steps away from the mirror, leaving the bathroom with darker eyes. The figure that had been in the room with him never once acknowledged.

When he steps out, Obito also happens to walk right in through the front door of the shop at the same time. Gai, who still sits at the table where he had left him, glances from him to the other male in bewilderment, a mixture of fear and confusion spreading across his features. “W-What?”

“Session’s over, dude,” Obito states simply, heading towards the table and taking the seat opposite to the trembling male. Gai scoots away almost instinctively. Obito picks up the problem sheet that Kakashi had been working on, a slightly comical frown immediately forming on his face. “What the _fuck_ is this?”

Gai lets out a panicked noise, clearly overwhelmed by the other male’s presence. “I-It’s Kakashi’s w-work! H-He’s actually really g-good when he f-focuses, b-but today he—” He stops when he feels a hand on his shoulder, gaze moving from Obito’s forehead to the hand, then to the arm attached to that hand, then to the body attached to that arm attached to that hand. He looks as if he’s about to have a stroke upon feeling Kakashi’s touch, evolving into a spluttering, blushing mess.

“Sorry, Gai, I’m ending it early today,” Kakashi mutters, ignoring his ridiculous reaction. But to Gai’s surprise, the other male does not look at him as he speaks. “I’ll finish the problem set in time for Thursday, promise.”

For once, Gai’s nervousness seems to dissipate into genuine concern. “Are you okay?” he asks, his tone surprisingly clear, void of trepidation, and Kakashi finally glances down at him. This time, Gai does not look away.

The two stare at each other for what feels like an eternity before Kakashi finally blinks, a small, dismissive smile on his face. “I’m fine, Gai. Thank you.” He picks up the older student’s bag for him, handing it to the worried-looking boy. “See you.”

Gai looks as if he doesn’t want to leave, eyes never leaving Kakashi’s own averting ones. He takes his bag, slowly getting up from the chair, stare disquieting as he opens his mouth to speak. “I—” he tries, only to catch Obito’s uncommitted gaze, and he bites his lip, conceding with a small nod of his head. “Okay. I’ll see you next time, then.” He flashes a shaky smile before bowing to the two, quickly taking his leave.

It isn’t until the boy fully disappears, entrance bells chiming his departure, does Kakashi finally sit in the unoccupied seat. Obito watches him silently, settled casually against the back of his own chair, a finger tapping against the edge of the table. “Are you sure that was okay?” he finally asks, and when he tries to meet Kakashi’s eyes, the latter merely turns to look outside the shop’s windows. “I really could have just waited until later.”

“He’s already gone,” Kakashi replies distantly, propping his chin up against his hand. “And you sounded like you wanted to talk about something.”

Obito gives him a careful look. “I did.”

“Well,” Kakashi utters, “what is it?”

He still does not turn to look at Obito, and it leaves the latter wary. “Are you sure—”

“I’m _fine,”_ Kakashi insists, eyebrows drawn in mild irritation, but he suddenly remembers his reflection. Remembers the way his pencil fell from his hands. “What did you want to talk about?” he forces himself to ask, hoping to divert the attention away from himself.

Obito seems to hesitate, and he reaches forward, taking Kakashi’s unoccupied hand into his own. Kakashi finally looks away from the window upon feeling the contact, meeting eyes with the older male, and they sit there in silence, merely staring at each other. Obito’s eyes dilate with concern, and Kakashi blinks away once more, feebly retracting his hand. The former lets out a lingering sigh before finally relenting, “I called my mother.”

Kakashi watches as a crowd crosses the street outside. “Oh.” His throat still feels dry.

“She was surprised,” Obito says. “I was surprised with myself, too.”

A small girl hops across the sidewalk, a giggling smile on her face as a balloon trails behind her. Kakashi’s vision seems absorbed in its cherry color. “What did she say?”

“That she can’t wait to see me again. To see Izumi again. This December.”

A woman laughs at something her husband says, linking their arms together as they stroll down the street. Kakashi wonders what the man could have said to make her smile so easily. “Are you going?”

“I don’t know.”

“I see.” A boy parks his bicycle at a bike rack, removing his helmet and gazing wondrously up at the sky above. “What about Izumi?” His bike is red, too, like budding roses.

A minute seems to pass by without an answer. When Kakashi finally realizes this, he tears his gaze away from the window to look at Obito again. The older male’s eyes are unreadable. “You look cold,” Obito utters, detached, and Kakashi frowns.

“I’m fine,” he says, but the look in his boyfriend’s eyes makes him uncertain.

“…Sorry,” Obito murmurs after a moment, and his studying gaze finally leaves Kakashi’s. “You just seem like you’d rather be anywhere else but here.”

Kakashi swallows, and it burns more than usual this time. “There’s no place I’d rather be than right here,” he says quietly, but he lacks proper inflection. He feels the urge to change the subject, and that’s when he notices the bandages wrapped around a couple of Obito’s fingers. “What happened there?” he asks, nodding towards his hand.

Confusion fills Obito’s eyes until he notices the digits in question, and he sheepishly hides them beneath the table. “I…was trying to cook something last night,” he admits, and Kakashi raises an eyebrow in slight interest. “The…the asshole brought home takeout for himself and left about a cup of food for Izumi and me. It was basically just grease, and I didn’t want Izumi eating that, so I tried making… _something_ other than fat or bread, I guess. I ended up cutting myself in the process.”

Kakashi stares blankly at the space the older male’s hand had been, now occupied by a single, withered red petal. “You don’t need to go through the trouble. I can ask my uncle to cook extra lunches for you and Izumi,” he breathes.

Obito’s eyes are sharp. “We’re not a charity.”

“I’m not calling you one,” Kakashi utters. He watches as Obito reconsiders his words.

“I couldn’t do that to him.”

“He won’t mind.” Kakashi notices that the boy with the bike has ridden off. “I’ll ask him tonight.” He sounds as if he’s going to say more, but he doesn’t.

Obito frowns. “I don’t want to leech off of you or your uncle.”

“Then work for him,” Kakashi states simply, not noticing the way Obito seems to pause. “He’ll need a few more workers when summer finally comes, anyways.”

Obito opens his mouth as if to protest, but stops himself, realizing that there is nothing to argue anymore. He gives the younger male a small nod of gratitude and Kakashi hums in acknowledgement.

Silence fills the small and empty shop as the couple sits, occupied in their own thoughts. Kakashi finds himself thinking of nothing in particular, but the static consumes him all the same. So much, that he doesn’t realize that Obito had asked him a question. He blinks himself back into the present, and he gives Obito a blank look. “Sorry, what?”

“Izumi isn’t sure if she wants to go to the wedding either,” Obito repeats himself, eyes careful as they scrutinize the younger male. “I was answering your earlier question.” He purses his lips, staring Kakashi directly in the eyes. “You really don’t want to be here, huh?”

His lips feel as if they’re stuck together. “I’m fine,” Kakashi insists again after a moment of hesitation, and he opens and closes his mouth as if attempting to find more to say, but Obito cuts him off.

“You keep saying that, but I know something’s up.” Obito frowns when Kakashi immediately looks away again. “Why won’t you look at me?” Kakashi grimaces a little. “You usually aren’t this…” He seems to struggle for the right words, “…this _distant.”_

Kakashi hears the faint sound of his alarm, the prolonged beeping, and he tastes powder on his tongue. “I’m…” _fine,_ he almost says again, but he bites his lip. The concern in Obito’s expression makes him more uncomfortable, if nothing else.

Obito raises an eyebrow. “I’m…?”

Kakashi sees a familiar figure in the corner of his eyes, and he looks the other way. “…Sorry. I don’t mean to seem so distant, I just feel…” He hesitates again, unsure of how he really feels. _How does he feel?_ Is there a word for it? “… _off,_ today.” He forces himself to smile, an attempt to dismiss the subject. “I’m sure it’s nothing. I’ll…I’ll be better by tomorrow.”

Obito’s stare is careful as he watches Kakashi. “This seems more than just nothing. What’s wro—” He’s cut off by the feeling of his phone vibrating against his leg. He pulls it out, staring at the screen with a light frown.

Kakashi peers over. “Who is it?” His own eyes flash before him, lashes dripping with droplets of water, his skin highlighted under an ugly yellow light. He blinks the image away.

“Genma,” Obito utters, a groan leaving his lips. “He wants me to babysit his snot-nosed baby cousin for him because apparently I owe _him one._ I’ve been ignoring his texts because I really don’t want to look after some bratty kid, but now he actually sounds pissed.” He stands up, giving Kakashi an unreadable look. “I think I should go.” His tone lingers, as if waiting for the younger male to say something.

But Kakashi makes no signs of protest.

Obito waits a little longer. _Nothing,_ still. The older male lets out a quiet sigh, leaning over and placing a gentle kiss against Kakashi’s temple. “I love you,” he murmurs as farewell, and Kakashi opens his mouth instinctively to return it, only to feel his throat close up on him. _Dry._ His eyes widen ever so slightly, and that feeling returns, that strange feeling he couldn’t quite place. That feeling without a name.

He tries to say the phrase again, but nothing but his breath comes out.

Kakashi suddenly reaches forward, grabbing Obito’s wrist before the latter can move away. Obito looks back down at him in question, but his boyfriend continues to stare down at the table. “What’s wrong?” he asks. He waits for the younger to speak.

Kakashi’s eyes are low, but he slowly rises from his seat.

He tries to match Obito’s steady gaze but cannot find it in himself, his eyes instead settling on his boyfriend’s lips. _“Don’t go,”_ Kakashi finally says, but his voice is quiet, quiet and foreign, even to his own ears. The air feels off, and Obito gives him a look of uncertainty.

Time seems to slip by both slowly and too quickly. He senses his boyfriend’s doubt. Kakashi cannot place his left arm from his right, but they both come up to wrap around the older male’s shoulders, pulling him in to meet his lips in a vacant kiss. It startles both of them, but Kakashi presses harder against the other, pushing him back into the chair. Obito lets out a noise of confusion, but Kakashi swallows it down with another kiss, settling himself haphazardly onto the other’s lap in a clinging straddle.

Obito abruptly pulls away, catching his breath, and his eyes frantically search Kakashi’s, whose own still refuse to meet him directly. “Kakashi,” he heaves, _“what are you doing?”_

Kakashi’s fingers loosen their grip around his shoulders, dropping to his chest, feeling the other’s heart stutter from his touch. That _feeling_ returns again, still indeterminate, frustratingly so, and Kakashi clutches the fabric of Obito’s shirt, pulling him forward and clumsily forcing their lips together once more. “I don’t want you to go…” His voice comes out as a small whine. It’s _his_ voice, _but it still doesn’t sound like him._

_ This isn’t— _

_ “—you,”  _ Obito whispers, so soft and faint and filled with worry, but it takes Kakashi a moment to realize that it was _Obito_ who had spoken those words. _Those dismaying words._ Kakashi is surprised to find that he almost couldn’t distinguish his lover’s voice. But when those words finally register, their meaning coming into light, he freezes, the entire world seeming to shatter all around him. He hears the alarm once more, he hears the murmur of those figures by his bed, the girl with the balloon, the boy with the bike, that broken, _broken_ little boy with the quiet, _quiet_ fall.

That unidentified _feeling_ seems to intensify, _but that isn’t the right word._ It frustrates him immensely, and Kakashi stubbornly shakes his head, fingers grazing the skin just above Obito’s collar. “Nothing’s changed,” he softly answers. “I’ve just been so…distracted lately.” His eyes dim as he watches the older male lick his lips. “Help me focus.” He leans forward to kiss him once more, warm breaths mingling in the intimate space between them.

Obito looks as if he’s ready to give in, but his phone vibrates again, drawing him back into his senses, into the cloud of doubt that drapes itself around their shoulders. “Kakashi, _I have to go—”_ He bites his lip as Kakashi slowly rolls his hips against him. “The s-shop—” he grits, trying another excuse, referring to the very wide and very open windows surrounding them. _“We can’t…”_

“Then let’s go upstairs,” Kakashi says, determined to win this. _To win against that unidentifiable feeling._ When Obito looks as if he wants to argue more, Kakashi kisses him again, desperation clear in the way his fingers curl against the fabric of his shirt, drawing them closer, taste locking them together. _“I want to be with you again,”_ he breathes as they part, finally meeting Obito’s eyes, and the latter’s resolve slowly crumbles. “It’s been so long…”

Obito still hesitates, his eyes uneasy despite the temptations, but Kakashi is adamant, trailing his lips against his boyfriend’s jaw. _Please, please, please,_ he silently begs. _Please, let me have this. Please, let me feel this._ That undefined feeling burns in his throat.

He lets out a soft gasp when Obito finally submits, one hand reaching up to curl into Kakashi’s soft locks, the other trailing low. Obito guides their lips together once more, and Kakashi closes his eyes to immerse himself in his touch, but the feeling is still there.

That feeling with no name.

His lips part with a soft whimper. He’s desperate to _feel_ Obito, to feel _something, anything._

And finally, he realizes what that _feeling_ is.

Or _that it isn’t._

Kakashi fixes his gaze on his boyfriend’s misty eyes, and despite the feeling of Obito’s heart beating against his palm, his own chest feels hollow.

_ “I love you,” _ Kakashi whispers, but he winces.

If Obito had noticed, he does not show it.

-

Kakashi can’t sleep.

He tosses and turns, blankets on and off, twisting and wriggling in an attempt to find comfort within his own sheets. He’s too cold, he’s too warm, he’s too strained, he’s too crumpled. Lights on, lights off, door open, door closed. His throat burns with every swallow, but he cannot go to the kitchen again, as every trip leaves him feeling more and more awake than the last. His eyes are wide and dashed with red streaks, bits of fatigue brimming his lashes, yet he cannot sleep.

At this point, Kakashi simply accepts it.

His thoughts wander through the past few weeks, having nowhere else to go or to dream of. Days have been filled with monotonous routine, the type that feels automatic and empty, limbs and lips moving and speaking on their own accord. Every day was the same day. Wake up, take his meds, go to school, make up work, go home, study more, go to sleep.

Some days he finds Gai with him after school, the older second year trying his best to keep Kakashi’s attention, to teach him theorems he already knew and walk him through concepts he already understood. But his knowledge did not translate onto paper. He could recite every theorem he has ever learned in Calculus silently to himself, murmur every molecule, structure, and detailed step involved in cellular respiration and photosynthesis, but every test Gai has ever given him would take him hours to complete, hands shaking, eyes wandering, black ink fading into smudges and splotches before sharpening back into uniform text. His erasers would dig into the sheets of white, staining them gray, bits and bits of debris accumulating in the corner of the table, erasers becoming stubbier and stubbier until they match his pinky nail in size, papers fragile and tearing from being over worn.

Finals are coming closer and closer, and Kakashi has yet to finish a practice test in time.

He knows, he absolutely knows he can pass them. But every minute he spends staring at pages of paragraphs, numbers and letters, symbols and pictures, is another ten minutes spent in frozen silence. Fingers refusing to move, fingers refusing to write, fingers shaking with every movement, producing unsteady and illegible scribbles. Even Kakashi himself cannot read them. The pencil falls, the lead breaks in half, and his erasers disintegrate into rubber dust.

He loses track of his work just as he loses track of time, and the alarm rings, and the test is over. Gai grades what Kakashi manages to finish. Oftentimes, he scores 5 right out of 5, maybe 9 right out of 10. But for tests out of 100, what good could 9 correct answers give him?

Finals are coming closer and closer, and the current time is 5:26 AM. Kakashi still cannot sleep. His eyes burn, begging for rest, but his mind will not comply. Multiple choice answers and blank lines swirl through his mind, red marks and countdowns trailing not too far behind.

He turns on the lights, the figure in the corner of his room watching him silently as he shuffles through his bedside drawer for his medications. The box reflects the dim lighting of his room back at him, glossing over the text printed on the back. _Drug Facts, Ingredients, Directions, Purpose, Warnings._

_ Side Effects. _

He rolls his lower lip between his teeth as he reads, mechanical memories shrouding his shoulders, whispering gently against his ears.

_ Drowsiness. _

_ Restlessness. _

_ Dizziness. _

_ Dry mouth. _

_ Weight gain. _

_ Loss of focus. _

_ Insomnia. _

His alarm rings beside him, and automatically, his hand reaches up to turn it off. The time is 6:00 AM. He flips the box around, staring blankly as the light glosses over the text once more, blister pack slipping through the opening and into his palm. Little white beads stare up at him through their plastic encasings. 

Hesitance halts his fingers.

But daily rhythms thaw them.

A tablet is popped and swallowed. It digs at his throat.

His feet sink onto the floor, and another day begins.

The figure speaks as he passes, but Kakashi does not hear it.

-

Obito watches silently as Genma speaks with his vice president, rolling his eyes when the younger male brushes his hand gently against her shoulder. The girl is so obviously in love with the asshole, it’s almost pathetic. Genma definitely doesn’t help the situation either, brandishing a suggestive grin that highlights his silver tongue.

Genma passes her a few more papers, the two exchanging bows before parting ways. The class president still has that bawdy smile on his face, but it immediately vanishes upon meeting Obito’s own natural scowl. 

“Well, aren’t _you_ a sight for sore eyes,” he remarks plainly, eyeing the older male in interest. “Do you need something?”

Obito crosses his arms, leaning back against a wall and regarding Genma with a gaze of indifference. “A new pack, yeah.”

Genma scoffs, patting Obito’s shoulder lightly as he begins to walk off. “I should start charging you, honestly,” he mutters, and Obito rolls his eyes, trailing behind.

“And I should tell the principal that you steal answers from the teachers’ desks,” Obito retorts, and Genma immediately shushes him. “That 94 you got in Economy was a little suspicious, if you ask me.”

Genma sends him a boorish look, pushing an exit door to the parking lot open and stepping outside. Obito follows behind, watching as the younger male begins to shuffle through his bag. “Kakashi isn’t with you again? He’s still catching up, huh?” Genma asks him conversationally, frowning as his hand continues to dig through his belongings. “Must be lonely having to spend lunch all alone. What do you do? Jerk off in your car?”

“Funny you mention it,” Obito murmurs, hands shoved into his pockets as he digs his heel into the pavement beneath his feet. “I actually just finished myself off in _your_ car. Nice, comfy, leather seats.” He emphasizes each syllable with long, drawn out, flicks of his tongue, and Genma gives him a disgusted look back. 

“You’re an ugly little shit,” Genma gripes, letting out a huff as he begins to pull out various notebooks and folders from his bag. Obito watches them drop to the ground passively.

“And you’re still a _nasty_ little tramp. What’s the STD of the week _this_ time?” Obito steps out of the way when the younger male attempts to kick him. Several pencils slip out of the class president’s bag and onto the sidewalk, rolling away. Neither male makes an effort to pick them up.

Genma scoffs at him, muttering something about _hypocrites_ before he suddenly lets out a small gasp. He drops his mostly empty bag, the object he had been searching for now in his hands. Then he turns to Obito, holding out a fresh pack of cigarettes for the latter to take, but as soon as Obito tries to grab for it, he holds it out of reach. A teasing smirk stretches across his lips. “Smile for me.”

Obito’s already soured expression drops into a glowering scowl.

Genma snorts, tossing the pack to the other student with a dismissive wave of his hand.

“Suck my cock,” Obito utters, pocketing the pack and turning to walk away, deciding that he has had enough of Genma for one day.

“Wait,” but apparently, Genma hasn’t had enough of him quite yet.

Obito lets out a very loud and unnecessarily long groan, turning back around. _“What?”_

Genma purses his lips as he stares at him, slowly kneeling down to begin collecting his belongings. “I meant to ask about how you and Kakashi are doing. How have you been holding up lately?”

Obito raises an eyebrow. “Oh, I’m just _peachy,_ class president, sir.”

“Alright, alright, asshole, fuck your feelings,” Genma says with a scoff. “How’s _Kakashi_ holding up?” he tries instead.

Obito narrows his eyes at the younger male in suspicion. “Why do you want to know?”

“I just haven’t seen the two of you together in a while,” Genma answers, haphazardly shoving his notebooks back into his backpack. “Normally I wouldn’t give a shit, but I’ve been hearing some pretty nasty rumors about the two of you lately.”

Obito lets out a heavy sigh, one that knocks all of his energy out. He gives the younger male a tired look back. “What’d we do _this_ time?”

“Break up.”

Obito pauses for just a second, only to laugh out loud.

Genma raises an eyebrow at the rather obnoxious reaction. “I’m guessing they’re wrong?”

“They better fucking be, or Kakashi has some explaining to do,” Obito retorts. “Where the hell did _that_ idea even come from?”

Genma shrugs noncommittally. “I thought it was ridiculous, too, but like I said, I haven’t seen you two with each other for a while. Separately, yeah, but…” He gives Obito a careful look. “Is everything alright between the two of you, or are you guys just giving each other some space?”

Obito stares back at Genma for a moment before turning his gaze elsewhere. “It’s just at school. We still hang around each other when we can. He just wants to concentrate on his studies for now.” He pauses, suddenly recalling his boyfriend’s past confessions. “He just…he really wants to pass this year.”

Genma gives the other male a quizzical look. “Shouldn’t you be worrying about that, too?”

Obito returns the look with a glare. “Are you calling me stupid, Shiranui?”

“I’ve never called you anything else, honestly,” Genma replies flatly. “Seriously, though. From the few classes I have with Kakashi, even though he rarely finishes his work, what he does have done is usually pretty decent. I had to peer review his last essay a couple of days ago, and all he really had was his thesis, but it was a pretty damn good thesis.” A small smile stretches across his lips as he reaches down to begin collecting his pencils. “So yeah, compared to him? You’re a dumbass.”

Obito holds up a middle finger, kicking away the few pencils Genma hadn’t managed to pick up. The latter sends him an annoyed glare. “I’ll make it, somehow,” Obito murmurs. Honestly, since the threat of expulsion has kept him in school this year, he has managed to at least scrape by with decent grades. Sure, he’s below to strikingly average in most subjects, but that’s at least enough to pass this year’s final exams. That’s what he tells himself, anyways. “All that tutoring for Kakashi must be paying off.”

“Oh, yeah, there’s another rumor,” Genma mentions. “Something about Kakashi cheating on you with Gai.”

Obito snorts. “Actually, _I’m_ cheating on Kakashi with Gai.” He rolls his eyes. “These people are fucking _pathetic.”_ It really goes to show how little any of the people in this town knew about either of them. That didn’t stop them from talking, though. Obito feels his fists clench a little.

Genma observes Obito closely for a moment, zipping his up his bag and hoisting it over his shoulders. “Kakashi’s been pretty calm nowadays, huh?” Obito glances up at him in question. “He isn’t so…shifty anymore. I still remember how he used to murmur little things to himself and stare at empty spaces for too long. He isn’t really like that anymore, he seems way more…in touch now, though he still has his moments. And now when other people talk to him, he’s much less hostile. Not exactly welcoming, but he’s a little more approachable nowadays, somehow. His new meds must be really helping him.”

Obito frowns, crossing his arms over his chest as he leans back against the brick walls of the school building. _In touch._ “He hasn’t talked about his delusions in a while,” Obito adds lowly, remembering that the last time he had asked his boyfriend about them, Kakashi had merely shrugged, stating something about how _“they don’t really bother me anymore.”_ He purses his lips, reflecting upon his moments with the younger male over the past few weeks. _In touch_ was such a strange way to describe him. “He hasn’t had any nightmares or episodes or anything at all, really.” The medications were successful in that particular area, but everywhere else…

Genma slowly nods his head. “That’s good, then, right?” he questions, noticing the hesitance in Obito’s stance. “It must mean that his medications actually are working this time.”

“They definitely are,” Obito murmurs beneath his breath.

Genma gives him a look of concern. “Is something wrong?”

Obito glances up at the younger male for a moment, considering his options. He had been holding these thoughts in his head for a very long time, too afraid to say them out loud in case they somehow reach Kakashi’s ears. He didn’t want to unintentionally influence the younger male’s decisions, especially after he’s worked so hard to get this far. His stare suddenly hardens. “If you tell anyone I told you this, I’ll fucking kill you.”

Genma snorts. “I _always_ keep secrets.”

“I’m serious, Genma.”

“I am, too,” Genma utters. “I’m tired of hearing these shitty rumors about the two of you, anyways. Why would I spread more?”

Obito continues to glare at the younger male for a few seconds, but he accepts the answer, relaxing back against the wall. “He’s not himself,” he finally says after a short pause, and Genma gives him a look of question. “Really. I guess it’s hard to tell if you haven’t spent as much time with him as I have, but he’s… _different_ now.”

Genma narrows his eyes, scrutinizing the other student. “How different can he be?”

_ I’m fine, _ he recalls Kakashi’s words. I’m fine, the blank look in his eyes, his wandering gaze, his impassive words. “It’s like he’s losing parts of himself,” Obito tries to explain, but the more and more he thinks about it, the more and more unsure he gets. “I don’t know. After we first got together, Kakashi opened up a lot more. He didn’t bother to hide things from me, he didn’t bother to pretend that certain things didn’t upset him…” He bites his lips. “He didn’t bother to pretend to want things he didn’t want. But he’s different now.”

Genma frowns, quiet for a moment as he absorbs the other’s words. “You think he’s hiding something from you?”

Obito swallows, finding the questions – questions he had been asking himself for a while now – more and more difficult to answer. “Not…necessarily,” he murmurs truthfully, eyebrows drawn together in mild frustration. “I think he just…doesn’t _know himself_ anymore,” Obito says carefully, scratching his head as he recalls the younger male’s strange behavior. “Like…he doesn’t quite know what he wants anymore, or what it is that’s really bothering him.”

“Well,” Genma says after a short pause, “what are you going to do?”

Obito breathes out a low sigh, shoving his hands back into his pockets and thumbing the edge of the box of cigarettes. “What _can_ I do? I’m pretty sure…I’m pretty sure it’s his medications that are doing this to him. He didn’t start acting like this until then, and he’s always told me how difficult it is to deal with side effects.” Obito lets out a frustrated huff, forcing a cigarette out of the pack. “What am I supposed to fucking do? If I mention any of this to him, he might feel like he has to stop taking them. But…they’re _working._ He can’t stop, even if—” He shakes his head, unable to finish that statement as he struggles to light a stick.

“Even if _what?”_ Genma pushes, watching as Obito takes a clumsy hit from his cigarette. “If they’re just side effects, shouldn’t they go away soon anyways? Maybe this’ll blow over in a few more weeks.”

Obito keeps his stare on the parking lot ahead. “I don’t know,” he murmurs. “I don’t fucking know.” He doesn’t believe it himself.

Genma seems to sense his doubt. “Well…even so. It’s not that bad, is it? He’s still the same Kakashi that loves and adores your ass, right?”

_ I love you. _

It sends shivers down his spine. He remembers the mechanically enunciated words, the staleness in his eyes, the rigidness of his fingers. There was no connection.

_ No feeling. _

Obito swallows. “He is,” he answers, “but he isn’t, at the same time.” He exhales some more smoke, watching as the lifeless cloud twisted through the air. “It’s not _him,_ Genma. _He’s not himself._ I feel like he’s noticed that he’s changed already, too. He’s been actively trying to…” Obito hesitates, peering over at the younger male next to him, the latter merely staring back. He clears his throat, tone suddenly low. “You’re going to make this weird, I already know it.”

Genma gives him an incredulous look. “What? I didn’t even say anything—”

“Whatever,” Obito murmurs, trying to fight off the color on his cheeks. He swallows down his pride, deciding that he can at least vent to Genma without worrying that Kakashi may hear. That Kakashi might hear and rethink his medications. “We haven’t been able to have sex for a while,” he finally admits, and Genma’s mouth immediately drops open in surprise. “Before you say anything weird, _I_ don’t actually care so much about it. I think it’s another side effect, and if that’s the case, I’ll hold out for him until he gets it back. But…Kakashi keeps _trying.”_ Obito swallows, feeling awkward under Genma’s far-too-interested gaze. “He keeps trying, like he’s trying to force himself to get into it, but I can tell it’s all an act. I don’t want to force myself onto him, or let him force _himself_ into it if he isn’t enjoying anything. But he keeps fucking _trying,_ and I…I think it’s because he knows that something’s changed.”

Genma swallows, eyeing the other student, and Obito can tell that he’s holding back a stupid smile. “That blows, dude,” he says, somewhat awkwardly, and Obito rolls his eyes. “So this has been happening for a while, huh?” Obito nods. “Must suck having such sore balls—”

_ “Fuck you, _ I should have known better than to tell you—”

Genma lets out a light-hearted laugh. “I was just joking, man. Sorry.” He scratches his head, as if contemplating his next answer while Obito continues to glare at him. “You have to tell him, then,” Genma finally says, sincerely this time, gaze suddenly serious. “You have to tell him that it doesn’t matter to you, so he doesn’t feel like he has to stop taking his medications for your sake.”

Obito stares at Genma for a moment, uncertainty evident in his eyes. “But what if he doesn’t see it like that? Getting intimate isn’t the only problem. Just in general, he can’t seem to focus on _anything._ He has trouble holding long conversations, he has trouble listening to _me_ whenever I try to talk to him about personal things, be it either about him or myself, and he definitely hasn’t been getting any sleep. I feel like just mentioning it might completely convince him—”

“That’s why you have to reassure him that you’ll stay by his side no matter what,” Genma utters. “That you don’t give a shit about your blue balls, that you’ll stand by him even if he can’t listen to you for too long, that you’ll support him in whatever decision he decides to make from now on.” Obito looks up at the younger male in surprise. “If you’re right, and Kakashi is already aware of how much his medications have changed him, then he’s probably already considering to quit. It’s _his_ choice, ultimately. But maybe you can deter him. Maybe you can convince him otherwise if you tell him that you don’t mind. You have to tell him that you’ll be there for him, that you’ll hold out for him until his side effects begin to finally subside.”

Obito falls silent, unable to say anymore. He knows that Genma is right.

Genma lets out a sigh, patting the older male on the shoulder as he begins to walk away. “Good luck,” he murmurs, and his tone lingers in the air.

Obito silently thanks him, heart aching in his chest, because he knows that things are never as simple as they sound.

-

Kakashi bites down harshly on his lip, rough enough to taste blood on his tongue as he fidgets uncomfortably under the sheets. _“M-more,”_ he manages to breathe out, fingers digging into Obito’s shoulders as the latter works within him. His breaths are thin and fragmented, and he struggles once more to feel comfortable under Obito’s touch, but despite his best efforts, only pain courses through his veins.

Obito suddenly pulls away, removing himself from the younger male with a small sigh. He leans down, kissing Kakashi lightly before finding his shirt and slipping it back on without a word.

Kakashi’s eyes immediately widen, the younger male scrambling to sit up as Obito redresses himself. “Obito, _wait,_ I-I can do this—”

“Kakashi, it’s okay,” Obito says, a sad but reassuring smile on his face, and Kakashi presses his lips together in dejection. “I keep telling you that, right? It’s _okay,_ really. I don’t mind.”

Kakashi watches miserably as Obito slides out of his bed, the silent frustration obvious below the belt. “But—” Kakashi tries, “but I…I _want_ to, and you’re still—”

“There’s no need,” Obito rasps back. He swallows thickly, awkwardly holding his pants up by the waistband as he stands by the bed. “I...we’ll talk about this later.” They meet eyes for a moment, but Kakashi automatically looks away, unable to do anything but nod. “I’ll be back in a few minutes.” He leaves another lingering kiss against Kakashi’s temple before finally leaving the room.

Kakashi listens as the door gently shuts behind the older male, a small whimper escaping his lips as he shamefully collects his clothes from the floor. The cool breeze of his air conditioning sends goosebumps down his skin, and he grits his teeth together as he redresses himself, biting back the urge to scream.

_ Drowsiness. _

_ Restlessness. _

_ Dizziness. _

_ Dry mouth. _

Kakashi grabs his medications from his bedside drawer, hands shaking as he struggles to read the label on the back. He lets out a growl of frustration when he is unable to steady his hands, instead tossing the box onto his bed and crouching over, eyes struggling to focus on the miniscule text. 

_ Weight gain. _

_ Loss of focus. _

His fingers clench around his bed sheets, knuckles a blinding white. The figure at the foot of his bed watches him silently.

_ Insomnia. _

He’s shaking, he’s _still_ shaking.

_ Sexual dysfunction. _

Kakashi closes his eyes, breaths weak as he slaps the box away, not caring where it lands as he crawls back into his bed, burying his face into his pillow. His teeth clench with enough strength to send aches through his lower jaw, and when he lifts his head, the world seems to spin.

He slowly moves to sit back up, back hitting the headboard as he stares dismally at the wall ahead. The figure moves in his peripherals, shuffling through his things, but Kakashi does not say anything. He can’t. Shame seals his lips. Humiliation haunts his thoughts.

The door opens, and Obito returns, breaths uneven as he carefully approaches the bed. Kakashi does not look at him.

“Uh,” he hears Obito utter, the bed dipping beside him as his boyfriend sinks onto the mattress, “your uncle was out there. That was, uhm, awkward.”

Kakashi stares down at his bed sheets, shame evident in the color of his cheeks. “I’m sorry,” he whispers, but he isn’t referring to his uncle. His voice is croaky and strained, so _unlike him,_ but every time he swallows, it feels as if the pain only gets worse.

“Kakashi,” Obito gently says, scooting closer and wrapping an arm around the younger male’s shoulders. “You don’t need to apologize. It’s _okay,_ really. It’s not a big deal.”

_ “It is to me,” _ Kakashi breathes, pulling himself away from Obito’s grasp to instead sit on the edge of his bed, eyes trained on his trembling hands. “This isn’t—” _He doesn’t want to say it,_ “I’m not—” _He can’t stop thinking about it,_ “I can’t—” _The words sting, his chest is still hollow,_ “Obito,” he cries out pathetically, but his syllables are broken, eyes dry and burning from fatigue, and when Obito reaches out to hold him again, Kakashi stands. “What’s _happening_ to me?” 

Obito follows him up, placing his hands firmly on Kakashi’s shoulders and orienting him so that they are facing one another. He stares down at him, attempting to reach Kakashi’s shaky eyes. “Look at me, Kakashi.” Almost begging.

Kakashi tries, _he really tries,_ but as soon as their eyes meet, his instincts force him to turn the other way. He does not catch the pain in the older male’s eyes.

He walks to the other end of his room, grasping the ledge of his window, eyes training themselves on cars sweeping from left to right, right to left, people and people and more people. He can feel the figure’s presence over his shoulder. It doesn’t say anything, it doesn’t move. But it’s there.

_ “They’re changing me,” _ Kakashi says, but it doesn’t sound like him.

“It’s only temporary,” Obito tries, placing a tentative hand on his shoulder, and Kakashi ducks away again, passing by Obito, passing by the figure without a glance, this time to face the mirror in the corner of his room.

“You don’t know that,” Kakashi answers, and when he meets eyes with Obito through the mirror, he turns away. “This was a mistake,” he continues, pacing back to his bed. “They’re too strong, I think. They’re far too strong, I think I need to stop—”

_ “Kakashi,” _ Obito asserts himself, voice low but ringing, and Kakashi slowly looks back up at him. “Listen to yourself.” He walks back over to the younger male, reaching out to take his hands into his own, but he hesitates upon seeing his boyfriend’s flinch. “You’re going to stop taking your medications, ones that are actually working, _over what?”_

Kakashi feels frustration grow within him. “Over...over _this._ I can’t do this, I can’t have you like I used to—”

“So you’re going to stop over something as trivial as _sex?”_ Kakashi grimaces again, but when he tries to move away, Obito blocks him. “I don’t care about things like that,” Obito breathes, attempting once more to meet his eyes, but Kakashi does not comply. _“I love you,_ Kakashi. I’m not going to leave you or look at you any different just because you can’t respond.”

Kakashi lets out a harsh breath. “It’s not just that,” he says. “It’s not just that. It’s more than sex, it’s more than you loving me or leaving me or…” He shakes his head, pushing at Obito’s shoulders and moving to another corner of his room. He chews down on his lower lip, tasting his blood before he forces himself to turn around once more. “Let’s talk about something else,” he suddenly pleads, stepping towards the older male. “Let’s talk about something else, _anything_ else.” He reaches out to touch Obito’s chest, but he hesitates, and then he’s pacing away again. “Anything, _anything,_ your mother, your father, Izumi, anything, _anything,_ Obito.” He’s desperate.

Obito’s eyes are hesitant, and Kakashi recognizes the look, he’s seen it far too many times in the past few weeks. The figure lingers behind his boyfriend, silent as it is, and Kakashi tears his gaze away. “Please, _please,_ Obito, I’ll listen this time, I’ll—” His fingers clench at his sides, and iron drips on his tongue. The pain in Obito’s expression sucks his breath away. “I’ll listen, I _swear_ I’ll listen.”

“Kakashi, _please,_ I want to talk _this_ through with you,” Obito tries once more, but Kakashi shakes his head adamantly.

“Anything, Obito. I saw the look in your eyes when you came in here earlier,” Kakashi says, and Obito looks at him in surprise. “Y-You looked bothered, like something was on your mind. Y-You just came back from your house…r-right? Did something happen? Did…did…Izumi…Does it have to do with Izumi?” _Anything, anything._ Obito has been talking less and less about himself lately, and Kakashi knows why.

_ He can’t respond. _

“We don’t need to talk about me right now,” Obito insists, stepping forward carefully, but Kakashi steps back.

“Yes, we do, we always talk about me, we always do, but never about you. I keep…I’ll listen, Obito, I _promise_ that this time I’ll listen. I want to be there… _I’ll be here for you,”_ but Kakashi inches backwards as he speaks, unknowingly contradicting his words, his back hitting the wall behind him, and he notices his discarded prescription by his feet.

Obito follows his gaze and sees it, too, eyes widening as he moves to pick it up. Kakashi sweeps it up before his boyfriend can reach it, the edges of the box flattening in his tightening hold. “There’s nothing wrong with Izumi, Kakashi,” Obito finally answers, eyes weary as they stare at the object in Kakashi’s hands. “But listen, this isn’t…” He hesitates.

_ You, _ Kakashi finishes the phrase himself. “S-Something else, right? It’s something else?” He’s unsure. He used to be so sure, he used to be able to read Obito so well, but now, now he isn’t so sure anymore. “Your mother…your father…the wedding…” Kakashi’s hands begin to shake once more, and he immediately drops the box, arms stagnant by his sides. _“Please.”_ It’s not a demand, command, request, nor plea. It’s a word, a small word that tastes like iron. Kakashi has lost its meaning, _much like he’s lost the meaning to many of his words._

Obito finally gives in.

_ I’ll listen, _ Kakashi had said, but as Obito speaks, no words seem to come out. Kakashi’s eyes wander elsewhere. His thoughts stray to other worlds. Anything that Obito says falls onto deafened ears. 

Kakashi feels his head go light. _“I-I’m sorry,”_ he croaks, stumbling towards his bed. Obito catches him, holding him up, and Kakashi’s vision begins to stretch and blur. _“I’m sorry,”_ he utters, _“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,”_ he apologizes over and over again, and Obito’s eyes look so pained, so _crushed and forsaken,_ and through the fog, the shadows of it all, Sukea stares silently back at him.

_ He failed. _ _Again._


	12. Chapter 12

Obito glances at the time on his phone. He holds the folded green apron under one arm, lips pursed as he searches for his car keys.

As per Kakashi’s suggestion, he started working for his boyfriend’s uncle about two weeks ago. The job was fairly easy, since the frozen yogurt shop was mainly self-served, and all Obito really had to do was poke at the cash register until money came out or in. He was to come in at least three days a week, but it didn’t really matter which days, as long as he came in.

Kakashi’s uncle is a nice guy. He had no problem with Obito’s inexperience and easily taught him their system with ease. That day ended with a smile and a pat on the back, then a gentle ‘thanks’ for looking after his nephew. Obito is glad that at least Kakashi’s uncle treats him well, that someone is caring for the younger male whenever Obito cannot. Especially at a time like _this,_ he thinks regrettably. He had informed the relative about the situation with Kakashi, and the man had ensured Obito that he would watch Kakashi closely. It was a little relieving to receive that reassurance, but worry would never leave Obito’s mind, it seems.

Regardless, his shift begins in about a half an hour. He can leave now, and he decides to as soon as he grabs a hold of his keys. Gai will be tutoring Kakashi today, and he always likes to watch the two of them study from behind the counter. Especially because Gai always seems so comically afraid of Obito, for whatever reason.

Obito leaves his room, stopping by Izumi’s to let her know of his departure. The girl is too invested in her homework to say anything back, shoulders hunched as she scrawls across paper after paper. Obito bites his tongue and closes the door, a little disheartened, but he decides it is best to leave her to her work. He slowly walks across the hall, heading for the living room when he hears the faint sound of a keyboard clicking in the background. A frown automatically forms on his face as he turns towards the source, catching sight of his father’s slightly ajar door.

He hadn’t even realized that the man was home.

Obito clenches his jaw, turning back around to head for the front door, but curiosity tugs him backwards. The sounds of the keyboard gradually grow as he approaches the still door, darkness ever present in the room, the only light the dim source from the computer. Obito opens the door wider, the frame’s hinges screeching in protest, and the light from the hallway seeps into the shadowy room.

His father sits at his desk, but upon hearing the noise, he immediately clicks out of whatever window he had opened. Obito barely catches a glimpse of an image before the generic stare of a waterfall desktop background gazes back at him.

His father lets out a hum. “Obito,” he greets with a light smile, turning his head to face the teen. “Do you need something?”

Obito does not answer, instead staring blankly at the waterfall, head trying to reformulate the image that had been there prior, only a split second before he entered the room. His eyes trace the desktop’s form, following a long cable and settling on the camera settled by the keyboard. The camera’s cap is back on, but it still seems to stare at him.

“Obito?” his father calls once more, and Obito blinks back into reality. “Are you perhaps going somewhere?” he asks innocently enough, but Obito cannot help but find his tone unsettling.

“Work,” he utters, swallowing as he observes his father’s setup again. _Was he uploading something?_

“Oh,” his father sounds surprised. “You have a job now?”

Obito frowns, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. “Yeah.”

“That’s good, _very_ good,” he praises, and Obito feels his discomfort grow. “What days do you work?”

“…Depends,” Obito murmurs. He doesn’t want to answer any specifics, finding his father’s questions oddly invasive for no reason in particular. The man has never cared about his whereabouts in the past. _Never._ His father’s sudden interest in his life nowadays was unsettling, and even now, as they speak about his job, he feels chills. “What were you doing?” he decides to ask, referring to the computer with a nod of his head.

His father’s hand lingers on the mouse. “Oh, nothing,” he says dismissively, tilting his head to glance back at his desktop. “Just a little extra work.” He sends Obito another superficial smile. “Are you leaving now?”

Obito swallows down his nerves once more, forcing himself to nod as his car keys rattle by his side. _Of course_ the man wouldn’t answer his question properly. His wariness only grows. 

“Oh, then, before you leave—” His father suddenly pulls the drawer beneath his desk out, the sounds of pencils ratting and other objects toppling over one another cutting through the tension-filled air. His shuffling abruptly stops, and suddenly he pulls out a rectangular object. The light from the hallway catches its screen, and Obito’s eyes widen when he realizes what he is looking at. _“For you!”_ his father chirps, holding the new phone out for the teen to take.

 _“What the fuck?”_ Obito cannot help himself from saying, eyes widening as he stares at the device. “What the actual _fuck,_ why would you buy another fucking phone—”

“It’s your old phone,” his father corrects, smiling as pleasantly as ever. “I had it repaired.”

Obito’s heart drops to his stomach. _“How?”_ he demands. He isn’t sure why he feels so _disturbed,_ so _suspicious_ as he stares at the object. _“Why?”_

“No reason,” the man replies simply, tossing it up in the air, and Obito has no choice but to catch it before it falls. “It was very expensive to fix. Please refrain from causing damage to it like that again.” He smiles. It’s flatter, this time. _“You’re welcome,_ Obito.”

Obito swallows, hands slightly shaky as he holds the phone uncertainly. The familiar screen stares back up at him, void of any cracks, any evidence of that dreadful day. When he tries to speak, no words come out, only strained sounds of his breaths. His father is no longer looking at him, the man’s hand on the mouse, eyes on the waterfall of his desktop screen. Obito stands there in silence for a few seconds longer, but his father does not move. The image from before never reappears.

Neither speaks. Their conversation is over. Obito loses whatever battle he had tried to fight.

The phone finds itself into his pocket. And Obito is out of the door without another word.

-

Obito has for a long time given up on sweets, and he feels particularly strong about that decision as he scrubs drips of chocolate syrup off of the counter. Some children are just far too messy, and Obito has to purse his lips to suppress the urge to gag when he sees a small hair peeking out from the pool of chocolate. He glances up when he hears the bell above the shop entrance ring, signaling the arrival of another customer, and he has to mentally prepare himself to force a smile for the next ten minutes or so.

“Welcome,” he calls out with a slight bow, smiling awkwardly at the group of preteen girls that filed into the shop. They all give him equally awkward greetings back before spreading towards the selection of frozen yogurt flavors.

Obito lets out a small sigh, adjusting his apron as he heads back to the cash register. He takes a peek over at Kakashi and Gai, the two students sitting at a table in the farthest corner of the shop, sheets of papers and books scattered around the surface. Kakashi has a finger between his teeth, gnawing lightly on his nail as his other hand tightly grasps a pencil. One of the girls bumps into their table, piles of papers slipping off and onto the floor, startling both Kakashi and Gai. The girl apologizes profusely, face reddened as Gai immediately gets down onto his knees to recollect their scattered belongings. She joins him, hands shaky as she picks up what he does not.

Kakashi does not move. His eyes are still trained on the space before him despite his paper being lost in the mess on the ground. The pencil drops from his fingers, and he says something too soft for Obito to hear, but it seems to surprise Gai, the tutor glancing up at Kakashi in concern.

Obito is brought back from his trance when one of the other girls appears in front of him, a friendly smile on her face as she places her cup of frozen yogurt onto the scale. Obito forces a smile back, weighing her dessert and fiddling through buttons displayed on the screen. The rest comes automatically, price uttered distractedly, exchange just as mechanically.

The girl leaves with her cup, licking delightfully at her spoon as she waits for the rest of her friends to finish. Obito glances somewhat wearily at the growing line, wondering briefly why girls always travel in packs. He manages to catch another glimpse at the table in the corner, papers now placed neatly back on the table, but Kakashi is not writing. Gai seems to be explaining something to the younger male, but it is clear by the way Kakashi keeps glancing away that he isn’t listening.

He rings up three more girls, and his cheeks are beginning to ache from faking a smile. There are only a couple of them left, and he hides his glare at one whose cup overflows with chocolate syrup. The one in front of him has a gift card, Obito tries not to look too annoyed as he works on her order. He hears the sound of chairs scraping against the tile, and Obito takes a brief glance over, catching sight of his boyfriend mumbling something hurriedly.

The receipts print themselves out, Obito hands one to the girl. The last customer is much easier to deal with, though her cup drips chocolate onto the scale. He knows he will have to clean it up later. She is gone within a minute. At the same time, Kakashi turns to leave, rushing towards the bathroom in the corner.

Obito watches Kakashi leave the table in interest, the tutor sitting awkwardly in his chair where he had been left behind. He finishes stashing the previous receipt into its designated drawer before calling out to the other teen. “Gai,” Obito says. “Come here.”

Gai immediately freezes, shoulders hunched and tensed, eyes caught like a deer in the headlights, lips gaping like a little fish. “ _I didn’t do anything!”_ he immediately squeaks, making no move to get up from his place. “I didn’t do anything, I swear! He wanted a break!” His eyes immediately widen. “Wait, no! I didn’t overwork him or anything! I swear! He asked for a break! I—”

 _“Gai,”_ Obito says again with a roll of his eyes. “Shut the fuck up and come over here.”

“I…I’d rather not leave the table, y-you know, in case someone comes in and tries to m-mess with K-Kakashi’s work. His h-hard work. You k-know. You never know.” Gai lets out a nervous chuckle, eyes looking anywhere but at the other student.

Obito clicks his tongue. “Then I’ll go over there.” He immediately steps around the counter, and Gai lets out a high-pitched yelp, murmuring something beneath his breath so quickly that Obito couldn’t catch it, but it almost sounded like some sort of prayer judging by the little _‘oh god, oh god, oh god’s_ inserted here and there.

Obito raises an eyebrow in slight amusement, taking an empty seat from a nearby table and pulling it in to sit beside the other male. He makes sure to scoot in a little closer, just to mess with Gai’s ability to properly function.

Obito stares at the other for a little longer than what can be deemed appropriate before he finally decides to speak again. “How’s it going?” he asks.

Gai avoids his eyes like they’re the plague. “I’m fine!” he squeaks. “I-I…I think the weather outside i-is really n-nice! So nice! Uh, uhm, it’s sunny, like—”

“You like the sun?” Obito questions as if it offends him, knowing exactly how Gai would respond.

Gai immediately whimpers. _“N-No! Fuck_ the sun, dude!” He lets out a nervous, high-pitched laugh. “God, who likes sunny w-weather anyways? N-Not me, ha!”

Obito snorts at the ridiculous answer, always finding Gai’s nervousness more amusing than anything else. “Do I scare you or something, _Gai?”_

Gai lets out another nervous chuckle. “…No…?” Obito raises an eyebrow. “I mean! Uh! _Yes,_ actually, yes, you s-scare me a lot, I—” Obito raises his other eyebrow. _“I’m sorry!”_ Gai immediately apologizes, jumping out of his chair to bow rather ridiculously at the other male. “I’m s-sorry! I-I’ll stop looking at Kakashi, I swear! I-I-I—”

“Jesus Christ, Gai, I’m just messing with you,” Obito says with another snort, sitting against the back of his chair with his arms crossed. “You’re not in trouble or anything. And it’d be hard to tutor Kakashi if you didn’t look at him, anyways.”

Gai suddenly frowns, the teen slowly sitting back down. “Well, it’s already hard to help him with anything anyways, since he doesn’t really look at me when I’m trying to teach him something.” Obito glances at him in interest, but Gai seems to interpret it as some sort of warning. The student’s eyes immediately widen as he jumps back up. “I mean! Uh! N-Not that I want h-him to look at me or…or anything, I’m not a _pervert_ , uh, I—”

“Oh my god, dude, stop being so jumpy,” Obito utters, reaching forward and pulling Gai back into his seat. The boy nearly collapses against the chair, and Obito rolls his eyes. He’s just about to bother Gai some more when he catches a glimpse of the work Kakashi had abandoned on the side.

He picks the sheet up, staring at it with discerning eyes. Every problem has tons of work, line after line of numbers and symbols, some scratched out, arrows pointing here and there, but no answer. Blank lines with no answers, letters never circled, all of it just work, work, _work,_ with no solution.

Gai seems to notice the troubled look in his eyes. His nervousness suddenly disappears, expression surprisingly serious. “Kakashi…he always gets so close,” Gai explains, tone slightly unsure, but he scoots a little closer to gesture towards each individual problem. “I can t-tell he understands, but he never finishes. I-In this one,” he points to one problem that has more scratches than actual numbers, “he was one step away from the solution. But then he just crossed it all out and tried a more tedious method. It took him so much longer to get through it, and as soon he got close to the answer again, he scratched it all out…” Gai bites his lips. “Whenever I show him where he went wrong, he never looks. He just nods and does the same problem again, making the same mistakes, starting over and over and over again.”

Obito inhales deeply, eyes once more tracing the messy scrawl of his boyfriend’s handwriting. Kakashi had been placed in a far more advanced math class than him, so he couldn’t even try to comprehend or follow what Gai had pointed out, but he thinks he understands. Kakashi’s cries from days ago ring in his head, _it’s not just that, it’s not just that._ Obito swallows. “Do you think he’ll make it through his exams?”

Gai’s gaze falls, somber. Dread immediately makes itself known on Obito’s shoulders.

The tutor leans over, pulling a folder out of his backpack. Obito watches as Gai begins to file through packets, pulling out several of them and spreading them over the table. “These are his practice tests,” Gai explains, and Obito begins to flip through one, noticing that only the first couple of pages are filled with answers. The rest are completely blank. “I’ve timed him as if they were the real thing, but he’s…he’s never finished one.” Gai shifts in his seat, flipping through one of the packets himself. “What he does get done is always correct. But he takes too much time on each problem. You can’t afford to spend so much time on the first question when you have about a hundred more to go through.”

“Isn’t that something you’re supposed to help him work through?” Obito asks in a somewhat accusatory tone, and he expects Gai to flinch from the severity, but he doesn’t.

“I’ve been trying to, but he just…” Gai bites his lips, digging into his folder for another packet. He places this one on top of all of the others, and Obito catches sight of the date. Nearly a month ago. “Problems that used to take him about five minutes to finish now take him twenty.” Gai flips through the pages for Obito, and most of the problems in this old practice test have been answered. “Back then, he was so much more… _receptive_ to my advice…he would listen, and he didn’t dwell so much on one question. He’s _good._ This is proof that he’s actually good, but I don’t know what’s changed, I don’t know why he’s suddenly getting _worse.”_

Obito grimaces. _Receptive. Worse._ A part of him already knows the answer, but he glances back up at Gai in curiosity. “Why do you think this is happening?”

Gai pauses, considering the question with careful eyes. He then purses his lips, an almost regretful look on his face. “…At first, I thought I just wasn’t getting through to him enough as a tutor after a while. And then I thought that maybe he just isn’t taking his work seriously, since he was already doing so well, but the more and more sessions we got through, I began realizing that it isn’t either of that. He’s losing focus, but he doesn’t mean to. It’s…it’s hard to explain.” He shuffles through the papers again, more and more pages of Kakashi’s scratched up work decorating the table. “But I can tell that he’s _trying._ He’s _trying_ to concentrate, he’s _trying_ to keep up, but I don’t know. Something… _something_ is affecting him, affecting his ability to work. _Changing him.”_

Obito’s heart skips a beat, and he immediately pushes the papers away. Dread has an awful taste.

The disheartened gaze in Gai’s eyes makes Obito realize his sincerity. A rare trait in their aging town. He can tell that the boy really does care about Kakashi, as strange as that is. Obito clears his throat, deciding to change the subject, finding this conversation about Kakashi’s dwindling abilities too difficult to talk about, on both of their behalf’s.

“You’re…pretty smart, Gai,” Obito suddenly comments as casually as he can, and Gai looks at him in surprise. “We didn’t share many classes but I’ve always heard things about you. The freaky second year _genius._ Never really thought much about it until you started tutoring Kakashi.”

“Oh, _god,”_ utters Gai, clearly embarrassed. “People actually call me that? That’s so… _lame.”_

Obito smiles a little, finding Gai’s newfound comfort far more amicable than his normally jittery self. “Kind of like you,” he remarks, and Gai lets out a tired sigh, collecting Kakashi’s packets and stashing them back into his folder. “Got any idea of what you want to be when you grow older?”

Gai pauses, staring up at Obito with widened eyes. “What?”

“Just curious,” Obito says with a shrug. “Normally kids like you have ambitious dreams. I mean, I guess we _all_ do, but the difference is, is that the freaky geniuses are usually the ones that actually make it.”

Gai tilts his head, seemingly in thought. “I…I wouldn’t call it ambitious,” he says carefully, and Obito gives him a look of curiosity. “I…I want to become a paramedic,” he finally answers, sheepishly almost. “But I don’t think I can make it.”

Obito gives the tutor a confused look. “Why wouldn’t you? It’s not like you have to go through one hundred years of medical school, right?”

“Well…that’s not what I mean,” Gai replies, fingers playing with the edges of his folder. “My parents don’t think it’s a great idea. They say I won’t make much money, and that I’m better off using my skills in something like _one hundred years of medical school.”_ He bites his lips. “Or law, or engineering, the typical fields _freaky geniuses_ normally like to go into.” 

Obito scoffs. _“Fuck_ your parents, dude.” 

“I can’t disappoint them,” Gai murmurs with a little laugh, but there’s a sad look in his eyes. “I…I think I’ll just do as they say. My father wants me to go into Biomedical Engineering, so maybe…” He trails off, clearly unsure.

Obito sees the hesitation in the other male’s eyes, and he sits up a little. “Why would you want to become a paramedic anyways?” he decides to ask, finding the profession a bit of an odd choice for someone like Gai. He would agree with his parents in that situation, too, but he is curious.

Gai bites his lips, a faint blush suddenly staining his cheeks. “It’s…kind of a long story,” he utters, looking away from the other male. He drums his fingers gently against his folder before letting out a small sigh. “A couple of years ago, my grandfather…” He hesitates once more, biting his lips. “He had a stroke. A hemorrhagic stroke, I learned later. I was home alone with him when it happened, and _I-I couldn’t_ do anything,” Gai explains. “All I did was _panic._ Crying, hyperventilating, begging my grandfather to come back to me. I was so _stupid…_ But I managed to gain my senses back in time to actually call the police.” Gai suddenly notices Obito’s unease. “Sorry, maybe I shouldn’t talk about this.”

“No, it’s fine,” Obito reassures him, swallowing down his nerves. He isn’t sure why he feels so uneasy all of a sudden. “I just…I didn’t really expect you to tell _me_ something like this.”

Gai smiles a little. “I don’t really know why I’m telling you this either, but I’ve never voiced this out loud before. Not without my parents interrupting me and telling me how meaningless it all is.” Gai looks down. “And I mean, you asked me why I wanted to become a paramedic. While I was only able to panic and watch my grandfather suffer, the EMTs just came in and…and they were like superheroes, I don’t know,” he says in awe, admiration clear in his eyes. “They saved his life that day. _And they’re so unlike me.”_ He smiles wistfully. “They were _so calm,_ so calm and professional and they worked with a calculated amount of confidence. Not too cocky, never hesitating. It’s just an everyday job to them, but I mean, they were so _amazingly_ headstrong. So from that day on, I decided that I wanted to become like them one day,” he finishes, and suddenly his smile becomes sad. “But I don’t know if I can. Besides my parents, I don’t think I have the wits for it.” 

Obito swallows, unable to say anything, as he doesn’t know what to say. He hadn’t expected the awkward second year to open up so freely, or for his story to be so… _revealing_. He almost felt bad for taunting him, never realizing that the other male was more than just some high-strung, socially awkward genius as everyone else had led him to believe. Obito regretfully realizes that he had judged Gai as superficially as everyone else had judged _him_. Judged _Kakashi._

 _It was such a shame._ Obito gives the tutor an apologetic stare.

But when he opens his mouth to voice his apologies, Kakashi returns. He looks up, meeting eyes briefly with his boyfriend, only for Kakashi to predictably look away and in favor of his own seat.

Kakashi does not say anything, eyes trained on his lap, unwilling to look up even as Obito tries to gain his attention. Gai clears his throat, shuffling through some more papers and timidly sliding one towards the quiet student. Obito watches as Kakashi lifts his pencil, the little tremors of his hand staining the paper before he can even attempt to write actual text. A drop of water drips from Kakashi’s bangs and dissolves into the white sheet.

Obito lets out a sigh of sorrow, standing up from his chair and turning to head back towards the counter. He pauses.

“Well, Gai,” he decides to say, glancing over his shoulder and sparing the oldest student a knowing look. “If that’s your dream, I’d say go for it,” he utters. Gai gives him a look of surprise, to which Obito only turns away, slightly embarrassed, but it’s his form of repentance. “Not all of us have a chance when it comes to dreams. _Take it,_ while you can.”

Another customer comes through the door before Gai can respond, and Obito heads back to the counter, wondering briefly once more what the rest of the world saw when they looked at him.

-

_Two weeks._

The date becomes more and more surreal the closer it comes. _Two weeks_ until finals.

Kakashi stares down at his latest practice test, then the one before _that,_ then the one before that. Not a single one of them is finished.

He stares down at his pathetic work, at his sporadic writing, at the scratches and smudges littering the page. His hands begin to shake again, and he throws his failures onto his bed, forcing himself to forget about it, forget about it _all._ He can handle this…he can handle this… _I can do this…_

_Kakashi, it’s okay._

He closes his eyes. _Obito._ That was his voice, he remembers. He tries to remember his eyes, his face, his expressions, _anything_ from the past few weeks besides that sloppy confrontation.

Kakashi’s almost horrified to find that any other memories of the older male are blurs, other words he’s spoken, other stories he’s shared never comprehended. He tries to remember what he can about Obito’s life, about his family, about his past, anything old, anything new, but they’re all tangled together, too. Jumbled into an incoherent mess, _there,_ but he isn’t able to access it. Not clearly. He doesn’t remember if what he knows is true or false, or if Obito had really said them…and if he had, Kakashi brokenly realizes, he never heard them.

_Gone, it’s all gone. The connection they once shared._

_He failed, again._

Everyday Obito had come in, sought him out, looked for the comfort and intimacy Kakashi had promised him, but every time, Kakashi had been unable to respond. Physically, emotionally, _detached. He wasn’t there._

_It wasn’t him._

_He couldn’t be there for Obito._

_He failed, again._

The door opens, and his uncle walks in. Kakashi watches him quietly, the man leaving his newly refilled prescription on his drawer with an encouraging smile. Kakashi forces one back, and his uncle leaves, respecting Kakashi’s wishes to be alone.

The white box taunts him.

He pulls out a blister pack, licking his lips as he punches the first tablet out. He holds it between two fingers, weighing it against invisible forces. The figure watches him carefully from the corner of his room, unmoving, judging his every breath.

_Run._

His decision is made.

Kakashi grabs the gnome from his windowsill, dust swirling through the stale air. It had been months since he last touched it, most of its contents gone. All that is left is a lighter, but it is out of juice.

He holds his breath, and the tablet drops into the gnome’s dusty depths.

The figure smiles, but Kakashi does not notice.

-

The weeks blur by.

Finals end.

Kakashi manages to pass.

Gai congratulates him. He is impressed with Kakashi’s almost miraculous improvement. Kakashi smiles back, thanks him for the help, and jokingly tells the other teen that he _isn’t so bad after all._ Gai is a bit sad to part ways, but he ensures Kakashi that if he ever needs anything, future help, _anything at all,_ that Gai would be there for him. It was a bit strange, a little awkward, too, but luckily Obito had come in to save him from the trouble.

Kakashi shows Obito his test scores. Obito does not let Kakashi see his when he asks. His cheeks are red with embarrassment, and Kakashi laughs. Regardless, Obito is smiling, an affectionate look in his eyes, and Kakashi realizes that so is he.

School is over for the year. It’s _summer_ now, and both Obito and Kakashi will transition into their third and final year with blank slates.

They leave the school, hand in hand, safe, secure. A connection almost severed, slowly re-entwining. They decide to go back to Kakashi’s for the evening.

Kakashi smiles when Genma runs into them, yelling at Obito about nothing in particular. He waits patiently by his boyfriend’s car, watching the class president and school delinquent’s ridiculous argument in mild amusement. _Some things don’t ever change._

He feels a presence beside him.

He turns to look, and the figure stares back at him.

Kakashi blinks, and the figure starts to smile, its teeth like pearls, catching the light of the sun.

Kakashi’s heart slowly begins to pick up, and the figure that had always been there, suddenly has a name once more.

_Iruka._

-

Summer used to promise trips to the pool and popsicles melting down fingers already dripping with paint. It was a season of hazy mornings and bonfire-illuminated nights, passing time by grilling out in the backyard or sitting through road trips with wiggling feet propped out of a rolled-down window. Summer was the taste of lemonade on parched tongues, sour and sweet, and the feeling of freshly cut grass beneath warm skin as bushy trees overhead swayed in tranquility.

But days like those are nothing but rusting memories. Obito now finds popsicles more burdensome than they’re worth, and trips to the pool quickly lost their unbridled excitement. There had been one year where he had rarely left the house, spending nearly all of his summer indoors, unwilling to leave the cavern that was his room as the world outside only offered him implacable ridicule. He came back in the autumn angry at the graying skies, the crisp chill of the bitter air only shaving his already thinning temper. His only comfort had been the piles of decaying leaves that would crunch beneath the weight of his feet as he moved. The noise was louder than their jeers. Their rustling nearly therapeutic as his offenders collapsed on the ground.

In previous years, he had spent most of his summers at Genma’s near-daily parties, wasting away between bottles of booze and heated kisses behind different locked doors. Obito had built up a new reputation for himself over time, one that masked his illegitimate birth, the talk surrounding him simmering into relative silence. His once bare skin littered with painful titles now scars of a wistful mystery. But the leaves still crunch beneath his feet every autumn. He’s more feared than he is respected.

Now, all summer means to Obito is more time. More time, more space needing to be filled. He doesn’t like staying at home. Home is only a torturous reminder of his revolting past, so he finds other things to occupy his time. He takes more shifts at the shop, he heads to Genma’s parties just to steal his money and booze, and he takes random drives from one end of the town to the other. Sometimes he’s gone for hours, only driving down mile after mile of empty roads.

On better nights, he holds Kakashi close on the edge of his roof, lounging as they gaze down at the bittersweet streets of a town that has continued to crush them over and over again. Their shoulders bleed with their own burdens, but their fingers are warm as they hold onto each other. If he could spend every waking moment with his lover, he would.

Obito spends all of his time striving to stay away from home. He tries to bring Izumi with him, to take her out into the sunlight once more, but the girl is not who she once was.

“Izumi,” he calls out, his fingers clinging to his car keys, hoping that maybe today will be a better day, “do you want to come with me?” It’s a question he asks every morning.

“No,” is always her answer, never once looking up from her books, her papers, her drawings, her fingers, “I don’t want to go outside.” She says it as if things had always been that way. As if she has always felt that way, despite begging him years ago to pick flowers with her from the gardens, to roll down grassy hills and pad around in pools of mud, hand in hand.

“Please?” he tries. All he wants is to hold her close once more. But she always pushes him away.

“There’s nothing for me out there.” There’s no expression in her voice, and she’s far too young to be saying things like that. It breaks Obito’s heart every time she does.

“I’ll take you anywhere you want,” he begs.

“Then we’d have nowhere to go.” The lights are never on in her room anymore. Not even at night.

He cannot say anything more. The free time he has to offer her is filled only with silence, empty eyes and fragmented stares. The emotions she used to express are all but gone besides the tears that fall every time she gazes at their mother’s handwriting.

Obito can never stay for too long. He has other places to go to, other distractions to indulge in, and whatever is left of his happier childhood memories chip away every time he closes her door.

-

Obito parks his car behind the frozen yogurt shop, killing the engine and stepping out into the open air. Kakashi is waiting for him by the backdoor, eyes lighting up as he walks to meet him halfway. Obito pockets his keys, greeting his boyfriend with a gentle kiss, feeling the latter’s body naturally meld against his. When they part, Kakashi’s eyes are filled with warmth, and Obito leans his forehead against the other’s, basking in his comforting presence.

“You’re late,” Kakashi whispers, a teasing smile on his lips. He smells of sweetened chocolate with a hint of morning glories.

“Then I’ll stay over a little longer,” Obito easily answers, leaning forward to kiss him once more. “To make up for the time lost.”

Kakashi laughs, playfully pushing the older male away. “You’ve grown cheesier over the summer,” he says, taking Obito’s hand and pulling him towards the shop. “It’s a little embarrassing, actually.”

Obito only hums, allowing his boyfriend to guide them where he pleased. “Only for you. If I hear anyone else mention this, especially Genma, I’ll feel betrayed.”

Kakashi snorts, leading them up the stairs and to the little apartment. “Oh, please. He’ll find out before I can even think about telling him.”

Obito gives him a soft smile back, following Kakashi as he automatically heads towards his room. “So,” he begins, deciding to address the reason he was here as soon as possible, lowering his voice ever so slight, “when is Sukea going to be here?”

When summer first began, Kakashi had started to talk to Sukea again, the two brothers exchanging text messages since. It started upon Obito’s suggestion, and it seemed as if over time, Kakashi had grown more comfortable with their daily digital conversations. He had received news from his little brother that he would be visiting for a week at the end of this month, and Kakashi had instantly succumbed into his previous anxiety once more. It had taken a while for Obito to convince Kakashi of the necessity of this meeting, to ensure Kakashi of his own strengths, and the boy finally agreed to meet with Sukea in person once more. They were to go to the park together, and Kakashi had asked Obito to be there with him. The fated day has finally arrived, and Obito can sense his boyfriend’s unease.

Kakashi settles on the edge of his bed, glancing up at Obito with a strained smile. “My uncle is at the train station right now, waiting to pick him up,” he explains, and Obito can detect the insecurity in his tone. “He’ll be here any minute now.”

Obito’s eyes soften, and he pulls the door shut behind him before joining his boyfriend on the bed. “How are you feeling?” he asks carefully, attempting to meet Kakashi’s nervous gaze.

Kakashi stares back at him, uncertainty evident in his expression. “A little scared, to be honest. The last time I saw him in person wasn’t exactly a great memory. It’s hard to look at him without feeling like my heart is being torn out of my chest.”

Obito places a warm hand on the younger male’s thigh, tracing small, soothing circles on the soft skin. “But you’ve been talking to each other about this, right?”

Kakashi hums, nodding lightly as he places his hand over Obito’s. “He…he understands that it might be hard for me to respond to him at the moment. But that doesn’t make it any better. I mean, over text, it’s easier to talk to him because I don’t have to see him. Our conversations were beginning to sound like how they were before I really started seeing and hearing things.” Kakashi swallows thickly, bringing a finger to his lips to gnaw on his nail. “It’ll be different seeing him in person again. I’m afraid that when I see him, I’ll just freeze up. I’ll just freeze up and break down and fall apart right in front of him.”

Obito smiles a little, taking Kakashi’s hand away from his lips and giving him a playful flick against the forehead. “Don’t worry about that,” he says softly, watching as Kakashi rubs at the light mark on his head with a slight pout. “And don’t overthink this. You can take it slow, you don’t have to jump right in. You’re not just doing this for him, remember? This is for you, too. There’s no rush.”

Kakashi seems to hesitate for a moment, staring back up into Obito’s sincere eyes. “It’s just…every time I see him, see his legs, see the state I’ve put him in, the sad expressions he wears when he thinks I’m not looking…It hurts. It hurts me, because all I can think about is how I did that—”

“Kakashi,” Obito immediately interrupts him, taking his boyfriend’s hands and bringing them to his own lips, placing gentle kisses against the tips of his knuckles in an effort to ease his worries. “It’s not your fault. Don’t think about it like that.”

“But…but what if I do break down again?” Kakashi bites his lips, watching as Obito gently massages his palms. “They’re unpredictable, Obito. Even when things feel okay, I can still start to feel anxiety. And then it grows. And then I’m freaking out again, and—”

“That’s why I’ll be there, too,” Obito reminds him, maintaining eye contact with the younger male as he speaks. “If you start to feel overwhelmed, I’ll take you guys back. I’ll make sure that nothing bad happens to either of you.” Obito scoots a little closer, feeling the warmth gradually begin to return to Kakashi’s fingers upon his reassurance.

Since Obito has been at the shop more often lately, he has gotten to spend a lot more time with Kakashi and his uncle. Even though Kakashi’s various medications are supposed to keep him from breaking down, they are not complete miracle workers, and he is still at risk. His uncle has taken it upon himself to teach Obito how to react to Kakashi’s various outbursts. One is never like the other, he is reminded, but as long as he knows how to recognize the signs, they can prevent another episode before it can truly start.

Obito drops Kakashi’s hands and rests his own on the younger male’s shoulders, massaging his back lightly and watching as his boyfriend’s eyes drifted shut, a sigh of contentment escaping his lips. Obito smiles, finding peace in Kakashi’s relaxed expression. Kakashi has been more like himself nowadays. Less aloof and more affectionate, less distracted and more in touch with the present. He doesn’t pretend to like things he doesn’t, he doesn’t hide his worries, he talks to Obito when something bothers him, and he listens to Obito when he speaks. The wall he had temporarily built had been broken back down, and Obito can only assume that Kakashi has finally gotten used to his medications. Perhaps things will begin to look up for his boyfriend from now on, especially now that his relationship with his brother is beginning to reform. Obito cannot help but feel happy for him.

Kakashi slowly begins to relax under his touch, and Obito feels a sly smile form on his lips at the image. He leans forward, coaxing his boyfriend onto his back. Kakashi immediately falls back against his bed sheets, and he opens his eyes, watching as Obito takes his place above him. Kakashi bites his lip, a coy look in his eyes. “And what do you think you’re doing, Uchiha Obito?” His tone is light and teasing, just enough to get Obito’s heart beating.

“Comforting you,” he cheekily replies, laughing when Kakashi rolls his eyes. He runs a hand down his boyfriend’s side, resting against his hip. “I think I’m doing a good job, don’t you?”

Kakashi lets out a shaky breath as Obito begins to leave lingering kisses against his neck. “You’re doing alright,” he manages to say despite Obito’s teasing touches.

“Good to hear,” Obito whispers, breath hot against his skin, and Kakashi shivers. He then pulls away, taking the time to stare into Kakashi’s eyes, a meaningful look in his own. “I love you.”

Kakashi is quiet for a moment, lips slightly parted in surprise at the sudden affection. Then, a small, grateful smile slowly spreads across his face, and he reaches up, pulling Obito down and linking their lips together in a languid kiss. “I love you, too,” he says when they pull apart, and Obito’s heart immediately warms, the sincerity in his boyfriend’s tone feeling as if a weight has been lifted from his shoulders. It sounded like he meant those words again. No longer did they sound mechanical. Obito indulges himself in the phrase’s quiet promises, in Kakashi’s wonderful voice, his wonderful heart. “Thank you for agreeing to come with us,” Kakashi says next, smile filled with affection.

Obito returns it. “Of course,” he breathes, leaning back down to connect their lips once more. “I’ll always be there for you,” he whispers between their shared breaths, the two melting against one another so naturally, the feeling absolutely sublime as their hands dance across sensitive skin.

Their breaths are short, movements lazy until enough playful friction heats them up. Obito pushes further, savoring the taste of Kakashi’s lips, relishing every touch and brush between them. Kakashi lets out a soft whine, fingers tangling into the older male’s hair, legs wrapping around his waist and pulling him closer, flush against his body. The two pull apart briefly to share a little laugh, gazes locked and carefree before leaning back in for more.

Obito’s hand sneaks down, tracing the curve of his lover’s backside and giving him playful squeeze. Kakashi’s breath hitches as he moans, arching slightly off of the bed, clinging desperately onto Obito’s secure body. _“Obito,”_ Kakashi whimpers, the sound of his name overwhelming the older’s senses with desire. Obito slowly rolls their hips together, drawing a particularly loud moan out of his boyfriend when the door suddenly opens.

“Kakashi—” Kakashi lets out a gasp, immediately pushing Obito away and scrambling to sit back up. His eyes are wide as he gapes at the door, his uncle standing awkwardly in place. The man blinks dumbly by the frame. “Oh, uh, sorry to intrude—”

“Oh, god, _uncle,”_ Kakashi whines, face redder than Obito has ever seen it, his boyfriend covering his face in embarrassment. “Don’t you know how to knock?”

His uncle lets out a sheepish laugh. “Sorry, Kakashi, I didn’t realize…” he trails off, meeting eyes with Obito, the latter immediately clearing his throat and sheepishly looking away. His uncle laughs. “I just came to tell you that Sukea is downstairs. I’ll let him know that you two will be a while.” He gives them a sly wink, a gesture that leaves Kakashi absolutely mortified as he closes the door behind him.

Obito lets out a low chuckle, watching as Kakashi mumbles embarrassed nonsense to himself. “I cannot believe that just happened,” Kakashi utters, letting out an exasperated sigh as Obito reaches out to brush his boyfriend’s tousled bangs out of his eyes. Silence fills the space between them for a moment before Kakashi gives Obito a reluctant look. “I guess we should go down and meet him,” he says quietly, and the slight tremble in his voice tells Obito that he is still afraid.

Obito reaches down, resting a hand on the younger male’s thigh and giving him a light squeeze of reassurance. “I’m here for you,” he says, and the words, no matter how often he says them, are always as genuine as the last. “And he’ll be here for you, too.”

Kakashi bites his lip, eyes still hesitant, but he nods his head, slowly slipping out of bed. They walk through the apartment and down the stairs to the shop in silence, Obito watching Kakashi’s every move. The slight shake of his shoulders, his tentative steps. But he pushes forward anyways, and Obito smiles.

He watches as Kakashi’s hand hovers over the door to the shop, fingers just grazing the metal knob. After a few deep breaths, he finally opens the door.

The light from the store’s vast windows cast rays across the tiled floors, bathing the air with a pale mist. Obito squints a little, holding a hand up to block the brightness of the sun.

Kakashi is completely still next to him. His uncle stands behind the counter, arms crossed as he observes the two teens silently, a book held tightly in one hand. Obito moves his gaze from him to the boy sitting at the table by the window. The boy’s stare is trained on the streets outside, but as soon as the door closes behind Obito and Kakashi, he turns to peer at them.

Obito feels as if he’s taken back in time, back to the very moment he first saw that familiar face. Sukea’s resemblance to Kakashi is almost surreal, as if the younger brother is another, alternate version of Kakashi himself. One with brighter eyes and lighter shoulders despite his own misgivings.

He had a future, Obito remembers Kakashi saying, the regret in his tone, the sorrow and self-hatred. It’s not Kakashi’s fault, Obito knows, but he still understands where he had been coming from. To have your future taken away from you so abruptly can rip any other person apart. How Sukea still manages to smile despite his circumstances is a trait that Obito almost envies. But he cannot help but wonder what could possibly make the boy so strong. Obito swallows down the anxiety that comes with the memories, standing straighter as he watches the following scene unfold before him.

 _“Kakashi,”_ Sukea says, a smile of admiration on his face at the mere sight of his older brother.

Kakashi is quiet, frozen in place it seems, eyes trained on the boy who has called his name. The call of a younger sibling is unique, Obito has come to learn. It is a call for reassurance, for a shoulder to lean on, for a model to look upon. Whenever Izumi calls his name, that is what Obito hears. He can only wonder what Kakashi may feel from the call, a little brother’s call. Kakashi’s uncle silently watches them from his corner, waiting, waiting for Kakashi’s answer.

But Kakashi does not speak. Obito can feel the tension gradually begin to rise in the room, Sukea’s smile faltering when Kakashi does not move. The sunlight seeping through the windows exposes the delicate dust particles floating through the air, their movement the only indication that time is still moving forward, but Kakashi does not travel with it.

Obito reaches out to touch his boyfriend’s shoulder, but with barely a blink, Kakashi is heading towards the table, eyes never leaving Sukea’s own. He abruptly crouches down by his brother’s side, a knee on the ground, hands steadying themselves on the other. Sukea stares down at Kakashi in surprise, lips parted as he tries to find his words.

“Kakashi?” Sukea says again, this time in a whisper, a tone so tender and vulnerable, eyes beginning to well up with tears. “Oh, Kakashi—”

Kakashi reaches forward, pulling his little brother into his arms. His hold is secure, warm and secure, fingers brushing gently through Sukea’s hair as he keeps him close, settling the boy’s head against his shoulder as he closes his eyes. Obito is stunned by the image, and so is Sukea, the teen’s eyes wide and filled with the same bright haze that surrounds them. Dust seems to settle, and this time, it really does feel as if they are all frozen in time. But the tension in the room disperses.

And slowly, Sukea’s tears begin to fall, one by one, little crystalline droplets dripping onto Kakashi’s shoulder. Kakashi’s hold only tightens, a shaky breath escaping his lips as Sukea’s chest begins to stutter. Sukea’s hands are trembling as they come up to wrap around his big brother’s shoulders, slowly but surely. As soon as he settles, he lets out a cry from the heart, tears flowing down his cheeks, unable to control his wavering body.

And Kakashi smiles. Obito watches as Kakashi opens his eyes, teary but strong, a look that is reserved for little brothers alone.

 _“Sukea,”_ Kakashi finally whispers, and his voice is clear despite the tears that brim his lashes, “your brother is sorry for all the pain he has caused you.” Sukea seems to fall apart further, shaking his head, whimpering his forgiveness incomprehensibly into his big brother’s ear. “I promise that I’ll be there for you from now on.” He gently pulls away, gazing into Sukea’s reddening eyes, the younger boy too overwhelmed with tears to speak. Kakashi smiles, and there’s a softness in his expression that conveys his next promise. “I love you.”

Obito watches as Sukea dives forward, pulling his brother back into a bone-crushing hug as he sobs his little heart out, the sounds of his cries and the soothing murmur of Kakashi’s hums filling the empty shop. He glances over at Kakashi’s uncle, the relative’s eyes back on the book he had been holding earlier, but a small, grateful smile graces his lips. Obito laughs a little to himself, shaking his head at the intimate scene before him. He is reminded of all the nights he had held Izumi close, of every morning he had spent soothing the tangles out of her long hair. Though his heart ached every morning and his thoughts pried his eyes open through the night, he was still there for her every second, every minute, every hour, every day.

 _Strong,_ Kakashi had called him once.

He understands the sentiment now, just a little bit. It doesn’t necessarily apply to him, he thinks. Because when Obito looks at Kakashi, sees the softness in his gaze despite the sorrow that rests on his shoulders, he realizes that this is strength. And Kakashi continues to be one of the strongest people Obito has ever met.

-

The park downtown is a small, grassy area, enclosed and crossed only by brick-paved sidewalks. A small fountain sits in the center, water sprouting into a tiny mist as children dip their bare toes into its shimmering basin. Obito takes a seat on a nearby bench, digging a hand into his shoulder as he rubs out an aching joint. Kakashi and Sukea are seated not too far away, the two indulging themselves in a quiet conversation meant only for the two of them, and although they asked Obito to stay, he still decided that it was best to leave them to their privacy.

After a half an hour, Obito notices movement in the corner of his eyes, and he glances over, watching as Kakashi and Sukea approach him. Kakashi stands close to his little brother, looking after the boy as he struggles to make it to Obito’s place. Obito feels a little guilty for a moment, unknowingly making them come to him when it should have been the other way around. He immediately stands up, offering his seat to Sukea who thanks him gently. The youngest heaves himself onto the bench, setting down his crutches by his feet, a breath of relief escaping his lips.

Obito glances over at Kakashi in question.

“My psychiatrist called,” Kakashi explains softly. “She calls every other week to check in on how the treatment is working, so I decided that now is a good time for you and Sukea to talk while I call her back.” He gestures towards his brother, the boy giving Obito a friendly smile.

Obito glances between Kakashi and Sukea, almost awkwardly. “Uh,” he fumbles, “do I really—”

“He wanted to talk to you,” Kakashi murmurs, sensing Obito’s discomfort and giving him a careful look. He then gives Obito a small smile. “He likes you, don’t worry.”

Obito’s eyes widen in bewilderment. “Wait, Kakashi—” he tries to call out, reaching towards his boyfriend in an attempt to keep him there. But Kakashi is already walking away, dialing a number into his phone without so much as another glance back, leaving Obito alone with his little brother.

 _...Fuck._ Obito feels Sukea’s eyes on him, and he slowly turns to look back down at the younger male. He swallows at the kind smile the boy sends him, feeling massively awkward under his warm gaze. Obito then realizes that he still has a cigarette in his hand, and he immediately drops it onto the ground, rubbing it out with his shoe. He then clears his throat, feeling incredibly stiff as he takes a seat next to his boyfriend’s little brother.

Obito knew he shouldn’t feel so awkward around Sukea, but he couldn’t help it. Even with Kakashi’s slight reassurance, a part of him still couldn’t help but feel unsure.

“You don’t have to be so tense,” Sukea suddenly says, and Obito ironically tenses up more. “I don’t bite. I just wanted to get to know you a little bit more.” His smile is so kind and inviting, and Obito attempts one back, but he knows it looks awkward. He wishes for once that he didn’t always look so naturally pissed off all of the time. Sukea lets out a small laugh of amusement. “Kakashi talks about you a lot, you know, though he never really told me clearly….so…just to make sure…you’re his boyfriend, right?”

Obito feels his cheeks redden, and he scratches at his neck in slight embarrassment. “I am,” he answers, cringing a bit at his own voice crack. “Why do you ask?”

Sukea nods his head, hands placed serenely on his lap as he turns to watch the children by the fountain. “Kakashi likes to keep things like that a secret. At least to us, our parents and me, he does. I didn’t even know about his last boyfriend until I walked in on them one day. Our parents never even found out about him.” Sukea sighs. “But after last time, I guess I know why Kakashi kept it all a secret.”

Obito swallows, his own mind wandering back to that terrible day, to how he and Kakashi had stumbled in like absolute fools. The look of pure disgust in Kakashi’s parents’ expressions was enough to dig a stake through his chest. Obito was used to being looked down upon by a variety of people, those with the right and those without, but that prejudiced glare he had received from his boyfriend’s parents had frozen his blood into ice. He chews on the inside of his cheek, the craving to smoke returning as he stares regrettably down at the dud on the ground.

“I’m sorry,” Sukea speaks up again, and Obito glances over at him in question. “I know that the last time we met wasn’t exactly ideal…and I can’t ask you to forgive my parents for the cold way they treated you that day, but…can we start over?” He holds a hand out for the older male to take, and Obito looks down at it in slight surprise. “I didn’t get a chance to properly meet – or even talk – to Kakashi’s last boyfriend,” he explains somewhat sheepishly. “I want to get to know you. I want to get to know the person who has managed to break down my brother’s walls, because that takes a lot of guts and patience.” Sukea smiles at him, something akin to admiration in his eyes. “I just wish I could be there for him like you are, you know? Or to at least get to know him again, because despite growing up together, I actually don’t know very much about Kakashi at all. I want to be a part of his life again…And you’re a huge part of his life, if his constant gushing about you says anything.”

Obito’s lips part, partially astonished by both the request and the praise, and embarrassed at the revelation that Kakashi had been talking about him in such a fashion. He realizes then that he has yet to say anything other than two words throughout this entire exchange, and Obito immediately snaps out of his stupefied gaze, taking Sukea’s hand and shaking it somewhat firmly.

“Sure, yeah,” Obito awkwardly agrees, and he silently curses himself for being like this. “I don’t mind.” Sukea smiles, eyes expectant as he stares at Obito, and it takes the older male a few moments to realize that he is waiting for him to begin. Shit. “Oh, uh…” He really doesn’t know what to say. Obito hopes his predicament isn’t obvious in the way he stutters. “Uhm…”

A few moments of absolutely nothing pass before Sukea lets out a kindhearted laugh. “I suppose I should actually ask you something.” He grins, eyes sparkling with interest. “How did you two meet?”

Obito pauses. “Uh,” he fumbles again. He couldn’t exactly say he punched his brother in the face, Obito stupidly realizes. “We had the same…history class. We, uh, met there.” It isn’t a lie, at least.

Sukea nods his head, though a little twinge in his eyes tells Obito that he knows that there must be more. Luckily, he doesn’t pry into it further. “What made you want to approach him?”

Obito purses his lips, wiping his palms against his jeans as he considers the question. “I didn’t. He approached me.” He still remembers how crazy he had felt, how crazy he thought Kakashi was for even looking at him after their fight. Obito wonders how things might have been had he not agreed to go with Kakashi that day. He didn’t even want anything to do with Kakashi up until after their strange little hangout, so had it not happened, would they have eventually become friends anyways? Obito didn’t believe in fate necessarily, but he truly could not imagine a life without Hatake Kakashi there. The boy was a ride of twists and turns, none of which Obito regrets.

Sukea’s eyes widen in surprise. “He did?” Obito nods his head, and Sukea’s lips part in awe. “That’s different. Kakashi was never the type of person to approach people first. He doesn’t like confrontation of any kind.”

Obito quirks his eyebrows, a fact from a while ago suddenly popping up into his mind. “I thought he used to get into a lot of fights back at his old school?”

Sukea’s expression falls immediately, and Obito regrets asking. Dumbass, Obito scolds himself, but he straightens up as Sukea begins to speak. “He did…” he says. “Some fights he started because of his psychosis, but back then he hadn’t been properly diagnosed, so they punished him as they did with normal troublemakers. Even though he couldn’t exactly control himself.” His eyes are sad, filled with sorrow as the boy recalls the past. “People were so afraid of him, especially after…” He trails off, but his fingers tap against his knees, and Obito understands. “After he had been diagnosed with schizophrenia, the fear people had for him only grew. That, and their prejudices. A lot of people started acting like they knew it all along, calling him words like psycho, crazy, insane, dangerous. They all isolated him, afraid that he would lash out at any moment like some sort of bomb. It was disgusting, really. I think that’s why he wanted to leave the school so badly. If overzealous assholes weren’t trying to start fights with him, everyone else was avoiding him, and stabbing him in the back.” Sukea let out a mournful sigh.

Obito inhales deeply, the images of Kakashi at his old school reminding Obito of the things he had experienced here. “It must have been terrible...”

“It was,” Sukea agrees. “The few people he did hang around were no good for him either. I’m sure you know, but before his diagnosis, Kakashi had been put on multiple different medications to try to alleviate his scattered symptoms. His so-called friends only used him for those drugs.”

Obito feels his chest constrict with anger at the thought of someone, anyone using Kakashi so dishonestly. “I’m…sorry,” he says, because he isn’t really sure what else he can say. “It’s not very different here, unfortunately. There are plenty of people at our school who are afraid of him now. A few others who have problems with him as well. And everyone is always happy to share their biased opinions of him.”

“But he has you now,” Sukea softly reminds him, and Obito pauses in surprise. “You’re more than my school ever had to offer him. More than I could ever do for him, too,” Sukea continues. “Of course I tried my best to be there for him, but after the incident, he couldn’t even look at me. Kakashi completely pushed me away, and it hurt, but I couldn’t do anything about it if that was what he wanted. All I could do was try to support him from the sidelines.”

Obito swallows, eyes falling to the boy’s braced legs, to the silver crutches that shone under the sunlight. “Can I ask…” he hesitates, suddenly regretting ever speaking in the first place when Sukea sends him a curious look.

The boy follows Obito’s gaze, and he hums in understanding. “Kakashi probably already told you, right?” Sukea pauses, giving Obito enough time to nod. He smiles sadly. “To be fair, it was my fault, too. I shouldn’t have tried to calm Kakashi down by myself, but I didn’t want to call for help like our parents always told me to do. It was so late at night, and I thought we’d get in trouble if they found out that we had been staying up like that. I did a stupid thing and reached out to actually touch him when he started screaming about how I was trying to come after him. What did I expect, honestly?” Sukea shakes his head, as if scolding himself. “He shoved me into a desk, and the back of my neck hit the edge pretty hard. Hard enough to injure my spinal cord, and, well…”

Obito bites his lips, recalling the guilt in Kakashi’s eyes, the pain in his voice. He knew Kakashi must have hurt Sukea pretty badly for him to feel so incredibly cursed by it, but to hear what had actually happened really struck a chord in his chest, finally fully understanding Kakashi’s feelings with the revelation. “Is it permanent?”

Sukea shakes his head, and Obito releases a breath he hadn’t realized he had been holding. “The injury didn’t completely sever my spinal cord. Luckily, my legs were able to feel just a little bit when they had checked, so they say that over time, I’ll eventually have the muscle strength to walk again.” He attempts a smile, but his sorrow is evident in his eyes. “But it’ll take years. Years of rehabilitation. And I’ll have complications for the rest of my life.”

“I’m sorry,” Obito utters again, gaze falling to his own legs. He has only ever had one injury in his entire life, a broken arm from a fight years ago. Nothing life changing like this. He couldn’t imagine being put in such a position, and he feels stupid for being unable to say anything more but an unsolicited apology.

“There’s no need to be,” Sukea murmurs. “Everyone always apologizes when they see me, but they have nothing to be sorry for. Neither does Kakashi.” He turns to face Obito, stare serious as he speaks, “I know Kakashi thinks he’s ruined my life forever. But like I said, over time, I’ll heal. Over time, I’ll at least be able to walk again. Over time, this’ll all just become a distant memory. But with Kakashi, it’s different.” Sukea glances back to where Kakashi had walked off to, the latter still on the phone, pacing from one end of a sidewalk to the other. “There’s no cure for schizophrenia. He’ll have to live with it for the rest of his life. Sure, he can be treated, but those only work to help him tolerate the symptoms. He can’t truly recover, he can only learn to live with it.”

Obito glances over at Kakashi, the latter biting lightly on his nails as he holds the phone against his ear. He turns, abruptly making eye contact with the older male, and Kakashi sends him a gentle smile. Obito manages a shaky one back despite the sorrow that fills his system at Sukea’s words.

“I love him,” Sukea whispers. “He’s blamed himself for something that he has no control over for so long, even more so after my injury. I can’t be angry at him for that. I can’t. He’s my brother, and I know that he would never hurt me, that he’d give anything to take that night back. My parents tried so hard to send him away, justifying it by telling me that he’s a danger to me and our family. They used this incident as an excuse to finally take him out of their sights.” Sukea’s hands clenched together, gripping the strap on his leg. “You know, they never actually treated us like we were their sons. There was no love. We were constantly pitted against each other, but Kakashi had always been one step behind because of his condition. So my parents wanted to throw him out, pretend that he wasn’t theirs. But they couldn’t, so they resorted to focusing on me, the normal one, instead. I tried to be the best that I could, to do as they wished, but it was like living like a robot. And after my injury, when they realized that I could never be the same little robot they liked to brag about, they took it all out on Kakashi.” He bites his lips. “Kakashi, it was always Kakashi’s fault to them. They wanted him gone, and they tried to use his psychosis against him.”

Obito’s stomach churns, absolutely revolted by the revelation. He remembers the cold look in the couple’s eyes as they regarded Obito. He had no doubt that they could be so monstrous.

“They’re so insufferable,” Sukea whispers. “They never told us they loved us, for every praise, they would critique us fifty times more. Visiting our uncle was always refreshing. He gave us the love we never got from our parents, so I can see why Kakashi was so attached to him growing up. But I just wish our parents could wake up. I wish they could realize that this isn’t the way to raise your children, but I suppose it’s too late for that anyways.” He smiles sadly, and he glances up in time to see Kakashi ending his call. He clears his throat. “I only have one request for you, Obito,” Sukea utters, eyes never leaving Kakashi’s figure.

Obito rubs at his shoulder once more, a little worn out from listening to Kakashi’s crushing past. “What is it?”

 _“Please don’t hurt him,”_ Sukea pleads in a voice so soft, so vulnerable, and Obito’s eyes fill with surprise upon seeing the broken smile on the young boy’s face. “I don’t know what it’s like to be in love, but from what I’ve heard, it can really change you. For better or for worse. And Kakashi loves you a lot. So even if one day, you don’t feel the same way anymore, just...please let him down gently. Please don’t hurt him.” Obito feels his heart shatter as Sukea turns to look at him, his eyes searching his like a desperate prayer. “God knows he’s been hurt enough.”


	13. Chapter 13

When the sun goes down, Obito drives both Kakashi and Sukea home. The two thank him for his company. Sukea will only be there for the remainder of the week, but he promises Obito that he will talk to him more while he still can. Obito is just glad that the boy seems to like him despite his inability to socialize. There seems to be a new bond between them after their conversation in the park, a faint one, but it’s there. Kakashi kisses him good night, and he reluctantly leaves to return to his own family.

He pulls out his phone as he walks towards the front door of his house, scoffing lightly to himself at the dead device before pocketing it once more. He had meant to check the time, though he knows that it cannot be that late. The sun had only just disappeared. So he has some time to kill before bed. Obito pulls his keys out and unlocks the door, stepping in and wondering if this time, Izumi would be willing to talk to him again. Or perhaps he can just call his mother.

Obito’s thoughts immediately halt when he catches sight of his father in the middle of the living room, the man’s low conversation on the phone immediately cutting short upon meeting Obito’s bewildered eyes. Obito’s father looks just as surprised to see him, an expression Obito hasn’t seen on the man’s face in a long time.

“Obito,” he greets, somewhat stiffly before he mumbles something into his phone, quickly ending the call. “You’re home early.”

Obito takes this time to glance at the clock on the wall. “It’s only 8:40.”

His father hums in acknowledgement, and Obito only then notices the camera on the table near him. “I thought you were spending the day with your friend,” he says casually, a light but careful smile on his face.

Obito frowns, suspicion evident in his eyes. “I did. It got dark. So I took him home.”

“Ah.” His father nods. He forces out a gentle laugh, but Obito only blinks. “So how was the park? Did you have fun?”

Obito freezes, and his eyes fall to the camera once more. “How did you know I went to the park?” he questions, his heart beginning to pick up in sudden paranoia. He hadn’t told his father where he was going. _He couldn’t have known._ He _shouldn’t_ have...but his father does not miss a beat.

“Izumi told me,” he answers simply, grabbing the camera from the table and hanging its strap around his neck. “It must have been crowded there. The weather seemed really nice this morning.”

Obito feels his skin begin to crawl, his heart thumping deeply in his chest. _He hadn’t told Izumi where he was going either._ But he swallows it down, and he doesn’t let his unease show on his face. “Why do you always have that camera?” Obito decides to finally ask, but he stays in his place, unwilling to approach the man as his discomfort continues to grow. “I’ve never seen you with it before, but lately you always seem to have it.”

“Oh, this old thing?” His father holds the device up, inspecting it lightly. “I’ve had it since the beginning of the year. It’s been a while now, but I haven’t really found use for it until recently.” He smiles, completely unbothered by the question, and Obito inwardly curses. “The spring and summer bring about new flowers and trees with sunsets so vibrant and beautiful. I can’t help but take a picture of every moment.”

Obito inhales sharply, unable to hide his distrust any longer. At the beginning of the year, his father hadn’t been home, and a gun had been held against Obito’s forehead. He shivers at the memory, and he feels anger begin to prickle at his nerves. He’s just about to speak again when his father claps his hands.

“You must be very tired after such a long day,” the man says, leaving no more room for questions as he suddenly turns to leave the room. “Get some sleep, Obito.” Another smile, another lighthearted wave, another escape into his dark room. The door shuts behind him, and before he knows it, Obito is alone once more.

His heart cannot seem to calm down.

Dread swirls in his stomach, and he finds it difficult to breathe. _How had he known? How had he known? There was no way_...Obito bites his lip, begging himself to keep his head, to think about something else, anything else.

His feet move for him, dragging him to his own bedroom, where he resigns to sleep away his anxiety. He spares a glance at Izumi’s room, seeing that the lights are on for once, seeping from the space beneath her closed door. Obito considers going in to greet the girl, an attempt to alleviate his mind of its trepidation, but when he knocks, she does not answer. When he tries the knob, the door is locked.

Obito’s heart drops in his chest. He smiles plainly to himself, how foolish it was of him to believe that she would suddenly welcome him in the first place. Obito had forgotten how cold his house really was. He turns to go back to his room, hoping that maybe tomorrow, her door might be open once more.

-

Obito wakes with a start.

He carefully sits up, back aching in protest as he blinks blearily at his surroundings. His room is dark, the only light from the moon seeping in from his window. When he swallows, his throat resists like sandpaper, and he inwardly cringes. He grabs his phone, unplugging it from its charger and noting the time. 3:52 AM. Obito normally never woke up in the middle of the night. He either slept through the late hours or remained wide awake. The last time this had happened, it was because of Izumi’s night terrors.

He listens carefully through the silence of the night, but he cannot hear Izumi’s cries or any movement outside of his door. For a moment, his heart thumps with the fear that maybe that man from so long ago had finally returned, that he’s finally here to take his life, but still, he hears nothing.

He isn’t sure what could have woken him up. He isn’t sure if he should even bother to check.

Paranoia begs him to stay in bed, but if the stranger really is in his house again, he has to check on Izumi. Despite his fears, he has to make sure that she is still safe.

Obito quietly gets out of bed, taking tentative steps to his door, careful not to make any sudden movements. When he opens the door, he peeks around the hallway, finding no other signs of life through the darkness of his home. The air feels cold despite the summer heat, shivers crawling up and down his spine as he steps out of his room. Izumi’s door is still closed, and when he moves to open it, it is no longer locked. His heart stops for just a moment, terrified that whoever might be in their house had gotten to her already, but when he peers in, Izumi is asleep in her bed. Safe and unharmed, a small form curled beneath her blankets. Obito lets out a sigh of relief, closing the door as softly as possible before turning to inspect the rest of the house. He moves to the kitchen, movements just as careful, a hand against the wall to guide his path through the darkness.

His eyes meet the moon’s through the window in the kitchen, and for a moment, time seems to freeze. He sees a figure outside, and his blood runs cold with paralyzing fear until he recognizes his father’s face under the moonlight. Obito frowns, confusion filling his system as he steps closer to the window, watching his father with careful eyes, the man slowly moving around their backyard.

The flowers his father had planted during the winter had finally bloomed. Dots of pink and purple huddle together in the center of their backyard, providing a lifeless audience as the man sets a box down into the grass. Obito watches as his father sinks to his knees, shuffling through the box’s contents, his expression like stone. He pulls out a few papers, spreading them across the ground precariously. It is too dark for Obito to see what they are.

A few more sheets fall to the grass, and then he pauses, shuffling through the box once more. Obito’s eyes widen in surprise when his father pulls out a lighter. He takes one of the discarded papers, lighting a corner and silently watching as the sheet gradually erupted into a small ball of flame. The man drops it onto the pile, the litter gradually lighting the tiny garden with its crackling, growing embers. Obito feels his heart begin to race, though he isn’t sure why, and he cannot move.

His father then begins to pull books out of the box, and it takes Obito a moment to recognize them as old photo albums. He swallows, anxiety stirring his gut as he remembers the happy pictures of their family stored within the aged pages of those albums. Obito thought that the man had thrown those away a long time ago. They drop into the flames, causing a few sparks to flitter from the ends, one by one, every memory of their broken family burning to ash. It’s almost depressing, but Obito can only feel horror as he watches the only physical records of their family ever being anything more than a broken tale descending into dust.

His father then pulls out what looks to be a single polaroid, frozen in place as he stares down at the small picture. The man slowly begins to shake, the polaroid shivering in his trembling fingers. Obito’s eyes widen when tears begin to fall from his father’s reddened eyes. He had never seen such an expression on the man before, such pain and emotion, face contorted worse than it had been during the days of the divorce. Under the glow of the fire, the shadows that dance across his skin seem to paint an unspoken story. The polaroid falls into the fire, and Obito catches a glimpse of his mother’s smiling face through the embers.

Obito’s father does not move for what feels like hours, the fire continuing to burn through all of his old possessions, the memories, the tokens of their past. Obito feels partial guilt for watching, and despite his hatred for the man, he feels pity for him. Obito knows that his mother had hurt his father as much, if not more than she had hurt Obito. He wonders if his father even knows about his mother. If he knows about December.

Obito receives his answer when his father suddenly tosses one last object into the flames, a gilded envelope that melts into the fire almost immediately upon contact. The white curls together, graying, blackening, fading into twisted feathers, gold sparking in protest before crumbling into dust. The daffodil degrades, its petals nothing but ash.

His father falls to his knees before the flames, and Obito swallows down his dread despite the burn of his throat. Throughout all of his years of living, Obito has never seen his father cry. But the moon and the flowers will not provide him comfort. And neither will Obito.

His exhales are shaky as he forces himself to breathe. He pushes away from the window, quickly heading back for his room without another glance back. He tries his best to forget the image of their family burning through the night, his mother’s picture melting into dust, and the look of pure anguish on his father’s face as the shadows gripped his cheeks and swallowed his sanity whole.

-

Kakashi gazes silently over the edge of the roof, hands placed languidly on the rusting poles of the railing. He breathes in the warm breeze, watching as an airplane cruises overhead, leaving a cottony trail of white in its wake. The streets below are crowded once more, abundant with families and friends strolling through the town in search for things to do this summer day. The skies shine a baby blue, the sun’s rays humbled by the few clouds that slowly drift by.

A small bird lands on the railing, perching only a few feet away from him, and he shifts his gaze to observe it quietly. Its gray and silver-blue wings flap gently at its sides, little head spinning from one direction to the other. Another hand settles on the railing only inches away from the little bird, but the creature does not flinch.

Kakashi’s eyes travel from the hand and up the arm, and he meets the smile that has kept him up during the most haunting hours. He grimaces, immediately turning to look away, instead focusing his attention on the cars below, differentiating the red cars between a sea of silver and black.

“How many days has it been?” Iruka begins, voice a low mumble as the two stare over the edge of the roof. “The withdrawal is always the hardest, isn’t it?”

Kakashi bites his lips, grip tightening around the railing.

“What a waste, honestly,” Iruka continues. “To give up on your only hope for something less stable. _Someone_ less reliable.”

“Don’t you dare talk about him like that,” Kakashi warns, and he closes his eyes, ignoring the oncoming feeling of tiny legs prodding at his skin. He rolls his sleeves up, hoping that the brush of the summer breeze will help to anchor him in the present.

“I knew you would give up on those synthetic parasites eventually,” Iruka says, a hint of praise in his tone, and Kakashi frowns. “Filling your body with mere imitations, destroying your own natural physiology. To change you, a rose like you before you can properly blossom, how sickening.”

Kakashi scoffs. “I don’t need your approval. I didn’t do it for you.”

“I know you didn’t, I knew you wouldn’t,” Iruka answers, and Kakashi peers at him in silence. A rose is pinned against the lapel of his blazer, and Kakashi only then notices the hallucination’s enigmatic attire. “But I warned you, Kakashi. I really did. To inject yourself with the very pest that will kill you isn’t wise. All of these people,” he starts, and Kakashi watches as a little green head peeks from between the petals of the rose, “they only feed you with lies. You saw how those things changed you, how those things nearly severed your life at its roots. Those liars claimed that it was for your own good. What good has ever come from poison? You can’t trust these people. They only want to change who you are, they don’t want to see you bloom.”

Kakashi frowns, tearing his eyes away from the tiny rose, instead turning to face the horizon once more. “I’m not a fucking flower,” he utters. “I don’t bloom. And they weren’t poison. Those meds helped me. They really did help me. More than any of the others, and definitely more than you ever had. More than you ever will.” His knuckles are white as he clenches the rusting pole. “What doesn’t exist has no say in what is good for me. What has never existed has no right to determine who I can or cannot trust.”

 _“I don’t exist,”_ Iruka echoes, tone lingering as he stares at the other male. “You seem so confident.”

Kakashi does not say anything, resisting the urge to peel the little bodies off of his skin.

“How do you know that he does?” Iruka asks him, and Kakashi feels his arms tense, a sharpening pain as the aphids dig their stylets into his pores.

Kakashi turns back around so abruptly that the silver bird flutters away. Its tiny wings flap with enough force to ring through his ears. “Don’t talk about him,” he snarls, voice low and eyes narrow, the sensation of insects burrowing into his skin wearing his patience thin. “Don’t compare him to the likes of you. You can’t make me doubt him. He lives, he breathes, he’s real.”

Iruka only smiles. _“I_ live. _I_ breathe.” Kakashi’s jaw clenches. “But let’s suppose that maybe he does exist. What else does? His kindness, his care, his apparent love for you?” Iruka’s smile grows into one that is mocking, hands shoved into his pockets as the aphids hug the edges of his lapels. “Flowery emotions like that cannot be proven.”

“They don’t need to be.”

“Did you feel it while you were on those imitations? The feelings of care and love?” Iruka questions, and Kakashi hesitates. “Did you feel your own?” His jaw begins to ache as he grits harder, body slowly beginning to shake as the pain across his flesh intensifies. “How can you be so sure such feelings exist? You feel them now, you feel love, you feel happiness—”

“They’re real,” Kakashi insists, but his nails dig into his skin, and one by one, aphids drop, discarding sprinkles of rose petals into the wind.

“They’re _real,_ you say, but you’re off of those imitations. Those imitations that polluted your mind, yet helped you as you claimed. They’re _real,_ you say. Your love for him, your happiness. These miniscule feelings.” Iruka takes a step closer, his critical eyes hooded as he scrutinizes the other male. “If those are real, and I am not, then _why are you speaking to me?”_

Kakashi steps back, hips hitting the railing as he scratches down his arms. “I _am_ happy,” he states, and he hears the bird’s wings whip past his ears, instinctively flinching away. “I know that what I feel is real.”

“How can you be happy when you’re being drained?” Iruka questions him, pity in his voice, and Kakashi scoffs at his conviction. He turns away. _Don’t listen to him. Don’t listen to him. Don’t listen to him._ “Don’t pretend. It’s unflattering.”

Kakashi’s gaze is sharp. “I am happy,” he repeats, stance firm despite the burning of his reddened skin. “Any time I manage to cheer him up, to bring a smile to his face despite our miserable lives, I am happy. I’m there for him for once, and that’s all that matters to me.”

“Then why do you cry into your pillow every night?” Iruka’s smile is thin, eyes emptier than they were before. Kakashi feels his skin drip, sugar sweet petals pooling at his feet. “You think that his happiness is yours? Selflessness is not an admirable trait. It’s a weakness. You’ll become another tragedy if you continue on like this.”

“As long as I can be there for him,” Kakashi says, but his voice is shaky, and his legs are weak. “I don’t care if it’s a weakness. I’ll stay strong for his sake.”

“A weakness, Kakashi,” Iruka reiterates, taking another step forward. Kakashi tries to take another back, but he is already against the railing, and his foot would have slipped off of the edge of the roof had it not been for the railing’s support. “One that will be exploited.”

“As long as I have him,” Kakashi whispers to himself, closing his eyes and willing these awful sensations, these delusions out of his head. He cannot tell if the red at his feet is from the roses, the cars, or his scars.

“So you’ll only live for him? You’ll live to carry his burdens?” Iruka lets out a hollow laugh. “What a waste. A rose will live even as parasites drain it of its life. Its petals will curl inwards, crispy and paper-thin, red blackening into ash, and leaves shriveling into cold shadows. When there is nothing more to take, when the rose finally gives out, the aphids move on. They find another rose. They find another bush. It doesn’t have to be a rose. It can be anything with that sweet little taste they crave. The rose is nothing more but another immobile, vulnerable host. Another pretty, naïve little face. It’s an ugly cycle. Their endings are always a tragedy.”

Kakashi pushes away from the railing, steps brisk as he heads for the exit door. The streets are too loud, but not loud enough to drown out these wails. “I don’t need to listen to you.”

“What you want will always be out of reach.” Iruka follows him. “Your happiness is at his cost. His happiness is at yours. Every step closer is another one back.” Kakashi stops, hands hovering by the door, Iruka’s breath a breeze by his ear. “It’s a futile fight to catch something so boundless. Eventually, _you’ll reach your limit.”_

Kakashi swallows, blood cold as he searches for his voice. “You’re nothing,” he hisses, eyes squeezed shut as he repeats it over and over, until he can only hear his own voice through the muddle. “You’re not real. I don’t have any reason to listen to you.”

“You already know this yourself, too,” Iruka continues, the smile in his tone apparent as he mocks Kakashi’s resolve. “It’s deep within you, the fear that this is all for nothing, an uphill battle with no end in sight. Climbing and climbing and climbing. Eventually your legs will give out. Eventually there will be no more air to breathe. You can’t keep fighting. Once you’ve been drained, there will be no place left to run.”

 _“Stop.”_ The aphids glow against his skin, and Kakashi grabs his own wrists in an attempt to make the visions go away.

Iruka laughs at his expense. “There’s only one way to get rid of those, Kakashi. There’s only one solution.” His laugh is low, guttural. “And you already know what it is.”

His fingers itch. His scars burn. Kakashi feels a heartbeat against his hand, but it’s faint, fragile, and it isn’t his. When he inhales, the air smells of cigarettes.

-

Inuzuka Hana is Izumi’s best friend.

Obito had formally met the girl for the first time when she had shown up to Izumi’s 7th birthday party. Their families had been neighbors at one point, up until their father lost their old house and forced them to move into their current one. Nonetheless, Izumi and Hana had often played on the streets together, attached at the hips, and they have remained best friends even until this day.

That is why Obito seeks her out personally one summer day. It had been raining, water misting by his feet as he hurried through the light storm. It was 6 AM, and a part of him doubted that Izumi’s best friend would be up so early in the morning, but he decided to try anyways, knocking firmly on the door as the rain continued to soak his body.

Hana’s parents had recognized Obito despite his pathetic appearance, his clothes drenched with rainwater, hair dripping and clinging sloppily to his head. They haven’t seen him in person for years now, he knew, and to see him in such a state must have left quite the impression. But his disheveled appearance was a mere reflection of his desperation, the urgency of his presence. Obito had immediately asked for Hana, and although her parents hesitated, both from concern and suspicion, they called the girl down for him and allowed them time to speak anyways.

When Hana sees him, her momentary surprise almost instantly morphs into solemn understanding. Her eyes are sad as she approaches his pathetic form, his clothes leaving a small puddle in their living room, breathing heavy and uneven. But even in his state, she somehow manages to appear more heartbreaking than him, clad only in her pajamas, the darkness staining the skin below her eyes indicating restless days and restless nights.

She seems to know what he is here for.

She does not waste time as she speaks. “She texts me every night.”

Obito is not surprised. “What does she say?”

Hana’s eyes grow sorrowful, and she plays with her thumbs. “I’m sorry, I promised not to tell.” She pauses for a moment, conflict clear in the way she chews on her lip, and upon meeting Obito’s wary gaze, she speaks once more, “She only texts me at night. She doesn’t reply during the day. I’ve gotten used to waiting until midnight. She always texts me as soon as it hits 12.”

Obito feels a raindrop drip from the tip of his bangs. “Can you come to see her?” he asks, voice a harsh rasp, and he coughs slightly to the side. He’s a pitiful sight, but it’s nothing compared to the image of Izumi’s curled form, small, broken, cold, and alone in the corner of her blackened room. The last time Obito had been in there, he had noticed that Izumi had torn off the picture she had hung over the bullet hole in the wall. She stares at it in silence sometimes. She does not answer when Obito asks her to cover it back up.

Hana’s gaze falls to her shoes. “I’ve asked if I can come over before. She always tells me not to.”

“But I’m asking you to,” Obito says, watching as Hana lifts her head to meet his eyes once more. “I’ll let you in. I can drive you over now, if you’d like.”

Hana’s face flashes with hope for a moment, but it falls just as quickly. “Izumi wouldn’t like that. She always tells me that I can’t come over. I don’t think she wants me there—”

 _“Please,”_ Obito begs, fatigue evident in the strain of his tone. _“She won’t talk to me._ She won’t talk to me, and I _know_ that something is wrong with her. I’ve tried everything I can, but it’s not _me_ that she wants to talk to. She can barely even look at me anymore.” He exhales a shaky breath. “She needs someone else that she can trust. She needs _you.”_

Hana stares pathetically back at him. “I-I _want_ to see her,” she whimpers, eyes welling up with unshed tears. “I really do want to see her, but…but the things she says…I don’t know if I can be there for her. _I don’t know if I’m enough.”_

 _“Try,”_ Obito says, and his skin feels cold, wet, uncomfortable under his dampened clothes. “Please, just _try._ She…” He hesitates, “she doesn’t trust me anymore. I’m not sure why, and I wish that wasn’t the case. But she doesn’t trust me anymore, and you’re the only one left, the only person left that _I_ can trust with her. I can’t imagine what she’s said to you, but the fact that she’s already told you _something…”_ He swallows, and another drop trails down his cheek, “Please, come over. Be there for her. Get her out of her room and make her _smile again._ You can help her. Help her out of this. Out of whatever it is that’s tying her down.”

Hana’s eyes fill with frustration, expression twisting with anxiety. “I’m not strong enough to do that.”

“You don’t need to be,” Obito answers softly, and he remembers then that Hana is only a preteen. That she and Izumi are so young, yet they have already been exposed to such traumatizing things. It breaks his heart. But he pushes on, because he has nowhere else to turn. “Anything will help to keep her safe. _Please,_ just stay with her. She’s so alone. I can’t do anything about it, and it hurts to see her so alone. So please, _please_ do this for me – for her. She needs someone to be there for her, to keep her safe while she won’t let me. That’s all I want.” He licks his lips, tasting the bitter rain on his tongue. “Although she says she doesn’t want to see anyone, that she doesn’t want you there, it’s what she needs right now. Please. She’s so alone.”

Hana stares up at him in stunned silence, seemingly at a loss for what to say. She presses her lips together, brows furrowed as she considers his words. Obito holds his breath as he waits for her answer, and Izumi’s tear-stained face comes to mind once more. He feels cold, _so cold,_ his heart stretching in his chest painfully as it pleads for mercy from all of this pain. _Please. Please._ She’s the only hope he has left.

Hana’s voice is quiet, but it rings with promise. “I’ll be there.”

-

Kakashi gnaws on his nails, eyes trained on the bright blue of the horizon.

The sky is clear.

Not a single cloud in sight.

“You seem nervous,” he hears from behind.

Kakashi does not bother to look. _“I always am,”_ he whispers after a moment, blinking away from the sky to instead stare at his hand. The skin on his palm is dry and blistering. He clenches once, twice, distracting himself with the straining sensation against his knuckles.

“Are you cold?” he hears next, and this time Kakashi slowly gazes over his shoulder, meeting Nagato’s concerned eyes.

A slight breeze washes over them, and under the summer heat, it should have been refreshing, _comforting,_ even. But Kakashi tugs down on the sleeves of his sweater, rubbing his arms as he stares blankly back at the clear skies. “I must be getting sick,” he dismissively says.

“You should rest.”

Kakashi bites his lip. “You know I can’t.”

“Is it the nightmares?”

Flashes of red, of fire lighting the sky and hands shooting from the dirt, clasping his ankles, dragging him under, suffocating him in a blinding black. A silence so magnified it makes his ears bleed. Maggots that wiggle along his scars. His body refusing to move. _Unwilling_ to move. It controls its own will, and its own will commands that it stops. His breaths thin, his heart constricts, and his lungs fill with the dirt that drowns him.

He had woken up in a fit of coughs. His vomit had hints of blood, and maggots swirled as he flushed the bowl.

Kakashi blinks the haze away, and his hesitance speaks for him. “You wouldn’t sleep either,” he says as Nagato moves to stand by his right side, “if you had nightmares like mine.”

“It’s not good for you,” Nagato tries.

“I know.” Kakashi’s grip on his sleeve tightens. “But I’ll endure it.”

 _“You’re falling apart.”_ Kakashi’s shoulders tense as Iruka stands to his left. “This is _his_ fault, you know, Kakashi. The nightmares, the fear, the anxiety, they can all go away if you get rid of _him.”_ Iruka tilts his head to the side, almost tauntingly. _“He’s_ not good for you. _He’ll_ cause you nothing but pain.”

Kakashi clenches his teeth together, the threads on his sleeves snapping as he pulls harshly on the fabric. _Iruka isn’t real. Iruka isn’t real. Iruka isn’t real._ It’s a constant battle he has to fight by himself. He doesn’t know if it’s one he can win. He doesn’t even know if it’s possible.

“Obito’s a _liar._ He’s a selfish liar. He never wanted you. You never meant anything to him, and you’re letting him use you, drain you, _manipulate_ you.” Iruka’s tone is like ice, and Kakashi’s skin crawls with the chill of the breeze.

 _I love him. I love him. I love him,_ Kakashi repeats in his head, hoping that the sound of his own words can drown out Iruka’s poison. His lip tears from his bite, and he tastes iron on his tongue. _He loves me. He loves me. He loves me._

“You don’t know that for sure,” Iruka whispers in sick amusement. “You _can’t_ know for sure. Nothing he tells you is rea—”

 _“Kakashi.”_ Kakashi opens his eyes, and to his right, Nagato remains. His gaze is filled with concern. “What’s going on?”

 _“He’s a liar, he’s a liar, he’s a liar—”_ Iruka continues from the left.

“Nothing,” Kakashi says as he swallows. “Nothing I haven’t dealt with before.”

_“He’s using you, he’s using you, he’s using you—”_

“This doesn’t seem like nothing, Kakashi,” Nagato insists on his right, and Kakashi forces his gaze onto the sky ahead. There’s no clouds to distract him. No planes, no jets. Only blue. _“Talk to me,_ I’m here for you.”

_“He’ll throw you away. He’ll steal your breath, use you, and then throw you away—”_

His scars sting. His stomach churns. He coughs into his hand. Pieces of sediment, fragments of rocks and dirt sit on his blistering palms.

 _“Kakashi,”_ Nagato pleads from his right once more.

_“He’ll hold you back to get ahead. You can’t reach it. You can’t reach him. You can’t reach each other—”_

_“I’ll reach it, somehow,”_ Kakashi thoughtlessly murmurs, and he coughs some more. Green glows amongst the dirt.

“Reach _what?”_ Nagato asks, and Kakashi lets out a shaky breath, suddenly feeling extremely weak. Realization seems to dawn in Nagato’s eyes, and he shifts closer, but Kakashi does not move.

_“He doesn’t love you. He never did.”_

“Is…” Nagato hesitates, and Kakashi finally turns to look at him, eyes filled with misery. “Is… _Iruka_ here?”

_“Soon you’ll see. Soon you’ll see how worthless you really are to him.”_

Kakashi swallows, and dirt rips at his throat. “He is,” he rasps. _“He always is.”_

-

It’s 8:30 PM.

Obito rubs at his eyes, far too tired after work to properly think. The front door of his home feels abnormally heavy when he opens it, and his feet move as if they’re pushing through thick mud. The groceries Kakashi’s uncle had kindly retrieved for him while at work rustles in the plastic bags grasped in his hands. He wants to try to cook something again, but his body begs him to go to sleep.

He makes his way over to the kitchen anyways.

He’s surprised to find Hana and Izumi there, the two girls hunched over a little journal, quietly mumbling between themselves. Obito blinks at the sight of his sister up and about, _outside_ of her room after what has felt like an eternity, and he breathes a soft sigh of gratitude and relief.

Hana has, as Obito had asked of her, come to visit Izumi as often as possible. Although Izumi still does not acknowledge him past the normal _good morning_ or _good night,_ it is nice to see that she has finally accepted someone’s company at least. It is reassuring to know that his little sister isn’t completely alone anymore.

Hana is the first to notice him, the young girl glancing up from the notebook in surprise. “Oh, Izumi,” she says, gently tapping Izumi’s arm, “your brother is here.” Izumi slowly looks up, lips parted slightly as her eyes meet Obito’s. He gives her a soft smile, but she quickly looks back down, merely nodding in quiet acknowledgement.

Obito expects that much, but his heart still aches a little as he approaches the two girls. “What are you two up to?” he asks, suppressing the urge to yawn as he sets the bags of groceries on the counter. He glances over at them briefly as he begins to empty out the bags of their contents.

Hana looks over at Izumi for an answer, but when Izumi does not show any signs of speaking, she lets out a sigh. “We want to try to make a dish my mother made a couple of nights ago. I brought over most of the ingredients, but we don’t really know how to start,” Hana explains, gesturing briefly towards the box of ingredients set on the side of the table.

Obito hums in interest, peering over the girls’ shoulders and skimming over the notebook they had open. “Well, for starters, you two can probably start by heating the stove up.” He gestures towards the assortment of vegetables Hana had brought from her home. “I can start cutting those up, if you’d like.”

Hana and Izumi exchange a silent look, seemingly sharing a conversation exclusively through their eyes. “We can do it,” Hana speaks for Izumi, taking her hand in a reassuring manner. Obito watches as a small smile graces Izumi’s lips for just a moment, and his heart warms with hope in his chest.

He lets out a low chuckle. “It’s good to hear that you two are trying to learn how to cook,” Obito idly comments as he returns to his previous task, organizing the groceries into their respective cabinets. “Maybe then I can stop pretending that I know how to.”

“You’re not that bad,” Izumi murmurs, and Obito glances at her in surprise. She does not meet his eyes, instead turning to begin rinsing a couple of tomatoes.

A fond smile spreads across his lips. “Thanks, Izumi,” he says, watching as the girl’s ears glowed a soft red. It wasn’t much, but it was a start. Soon, Obito hopes, soon Izumi will go back to being the same bubbly girl she always was growing up. It might take some time, but she’ll get there. He prays that she’ll get there.

He’s just about to go over and help her when he hears the front door open. Obito and Hana look up instinctively, but Izumi’s skin seems to pale.

 _“Izumi!”_ his father’s voice rings throughout the house, muffled by the walls but sing-song and carefree as it always is. _“I have another gift for you!”_

Obito feels his blood go cold at the sound, the fatigue he had felt before weighing down on his shoulders more intensely than ever. Izumi’s hands were beginning to shake beside him, and it does not go unnoticed by Obito, a frown marking his expression as he turns to leave the kitchen. “Stay here,” he mumbles, placing his hand on Izumi’s shoulder in a comforting manner before heading towards the living room. Hana gives him a worried look as he leaves.

 _“Izumi?”_ his father calls out again as Obito turns the corner. His father is holding a black bag in one hand, his camera hanging around his neck. He does not seem to notice Obito, the man humming a mindless little tune to himself. “Izu—oh, Obito.” An innocent smile, but there are hints of irritation in the corners of his lips. “Sorry, this is for Izumi only. Next time I’ll find a present for you, okay?”

Obito rolls his eyes at the dismissive response, crossing his arms and leaning against the wall beside him. He eyes the black bag suspiciously. “What did you get her?”

“Oh, nothing,” his father answers breezily, waving the question off with a lazy hand. “It’s a surprise.”

“Not much of a surprise,” Obito utters. “Where the hell did you go this time?”

“Work, of course,” his father replies in that even tone of his. “Can’t ever make too much money, yes?”

“I don’t believe you.”

His father’s smile seems to darken ever so slightly, but he straightens up before Obito can process it. “Where is Izumi?”

“Hana is over,” Obito says instead of properly answering, and his father’s eyes suddenly turn cold.

“She always seems to be these days,” he observes lowly, and Obito can hear a hint of annoyance in his tone. “Where are her parents?” his father suddenly questions, tone taking an uncharacteristically sharp turn. “We can’t keep taking care of her like this.”

Obito blinks in bewilderment. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“She spends more time here than at her own home,” his father explains, not bothering to hide the irritation in his voice any longer. “She eats our food, uses our water, takes up our internet. How do you expect me to pay for her, too?”

“Like you ever even paid for any of those things,” Obito snaps, disgusted by his father’s words. “Don’t act like she’s some sort of fucking bother. She’s Izumi’s god damn friend.”

“Her friend needs to start spending time with her own family. I can’t keep paying for her extra weight—”

“What the hell? She’s just a little girl! Does her presence bother you _that_ much?” Obito asks him incredulously, voice rising with his temper as he pushes away from the wall. “What the fuck did Hana ever do to _you?_ If you could afford to buy all your _useless_ shit like that fucking camera, then you can afford to pay for what little water she ever uses.”

“You talk as if you know what I have to go through,” his father utters back, stare hardening into a glower that reminds Obito of the fights from so many years ago. “You work now, maybe it’s time you start contributing your earnings towards this home.”

“I _have_ been, you stupid asshole. _I’m_ the reason our fridge has any food in it anymore,” Obito snarls, muscles tensing as he determinedly returns his father’s glare, unwilling to back down.

“You think _food_ is all we ever have to worry about?” His father barks out a laugh, and Obito flinches at its severity. “Electricity, water, rent, maintenance, insurance, property tax, the list goes _on_ and _on_ and _on._ If you’re going to keep living here, I’m afraid you’re going to have to start pulling your own weight.”

“You’re fucking insane if you think I’m letting you anywhere near _my_ money.” Obito watches as his father’s eyes darken dangerously, as if chained parts of the man were finally surfacing. His breath hitches a bit, heart hesitating at the sight, unused to seeing such an expression on the man he grew up under. He swallows down his unease and struggles to maintain his conviction. “You’re just going to use it on yourself, you selfish asshole. Just like you always have.”

“Watch your tongue, Obito,” his father warns, his voice deep and filled with authority. “You shouldn’t be speaking to your father with such a tone—”

Something in Obito snaps. _“Father?”_ he repeats incredulously, scoffing with enough force to burn the insides of his throat. “You aren’t my father! You aren’t my father in any sense of the damn word! You stopped being our father in any way the minute you stopped giving a shit about me and Izumi, the minute you started wasting your money on cars and drugs and stupid gifts we don’t even need!”

Whatever doors that blocked the older man’s steady control finally break open, releasing a flood before Obito can properly react. “So you think your real father would have been any _different?”_ the man spits, and Obito’s heart nearly stops at the mere mention of the unknown man. “You and Izumi are lucky I even bother to take care of the two of you anymore. Lucky that I haven’t _kicked_ you ungrateful _bastards_ out already. If I had known just how much I would have to spend on the two of you, I would have left the same minute your mother did. Left you two behind on some other poor fuck’s doorstep. Your _real_ father was _right_ to run off, whoever that son of a bitch is. Your mother, your sister, you, _all of you_ have been nothing but giant pains in my ass—”

“Lucky? We’re fucking _lucky?”_ Obito can feel himself losing his mind, his chest constricting with every word. _So that’s how he feels. That’s how he’s always felt this entire time._ Behind those creepy smiles. Behind every empty promise. Obito feels pathetic, more worthless than he already had. But he pushes on. “Yeah, we’re so fucking lucky that we’re forced to live with a piece of _shit._ You don’t take care of us, you _never_ did!” He can feel his head throbbing with his anger. “And I don’t give a shit about who my _real_ father is, but I can fucking bet what little savings I manage to have that he would have been a thousand times better than you.”

His father’s eyes sharpen with the blow, but his shoulders fall as he stiffly resigns. Obito’s chest heaves, breathing heavy from his tirade as his father scoffs condescendingly. “I should have abandoned the two of you when I had the chance,” he utters, voice filled with such venom, such _hatred_ that Obito feels his throat begin to close up. “You were never my son. And I’m glad.” Obito swallows down a nerve, trying his best to remain unaffected by the terrible words. “I would never want to have a son as _pathetic_ as you—”

A sharp scream is heard from the kitchen, one of horror, and both males look up in bewilderment. Obito barely spares his father another glance, his own mind short-circuiting before he runs into the kitchen in alarm. He huffs by the doorway, taking in the scene before him. Hana has her hands over her mouth, a look of absolute horror in her eyes as she glances from Obito to Izumi. Obito’s eyes trail over to Izumi, only then noticing the blood flowing down her arm.

“Izumi!” he exclaims, hurrying over and observing his sister’s wounds. He hisses at the sight, glancing away to search Izumi’s eyes, only to find them empty. He finds it more heartbreaking than the words his father had yelled.

 _She heard,_ he realizes. _She heard it all._

The cut on her finger looks deep.

Obito curses, immediately finding a towel and wrapping it tightly around the injury.

“I’m sorry, I-I shouldn’t have screamed—” Hana stammers, only to cut herself off upon seeing Obito’s exhausted expression. “I-I’ll leave,” she whispers in shame, and by the way her knees seem to shake, Obito can tell that she had heard them, too.

Obito does not bother to respond, turning to focus on Izumi once more. Crimson slowly seeps through the white of the towel, and the sight alone is enough to make Obito’s stomach churn. Izumi still does not say anything, nearly limp as she allows Obito to tend to her.

Her emotionless eyes, so distant and silenced, steal away whatever hope Obito had left. Just looking at her, he knows that there is no going back. It fills him with a sadness that eats away at his insides. The feeling of failure weighs heavily on his shoulders. Izumi will never be the same again. Not after hearing those awful words. _Not after tonight._

For a moment, Obito remembers harboring scrapes on his knees and tears in his eyes long, long ago. He remembers the woman who kissed his wounds, cleaned them and dressed them back up, singing a soft tune filled with quiet promises of love. He remembers her leaving, dispersing with the wind with letters being the only reassurance that she is still alive.

He misses his mother.

Despite all of the pain that she has caused them, despite her irresponsibility, despite her curse. At least she was truly his mother.

And he misses her dearly.

-

“Something’s bothering you.”

Obito looks up from his clipboard, meeting eyes with Kakashi, whose own are filled with concern. His apron is a bit creased and sports caramel stains. Obito gives him a slight smile before checking one final item off of the list, moving to leave the storage room. “It’s nothing,” he says after a moment, Kakashi’s eyes tracing his every movement.

Kakashi blocks his exit, and with one glance back towards the empty shop, he closes the door behind them, leaving them alone in the storage closet. Obito raises an eyebrow in intrigue, watching as Kakashi leans back against the door in a defiant manner.

“Oh, I bet it’s something,” Kakashi says, and Obito lets out a small sigh. “Come on, tell me.” He takes Obito’s clipboard out of his hands and tosses it onto a random shelf, intertwining their fingers and pulling his boyfriend closer.

“It’s really nothing,” Obito murmurs noncommittally, avoiding Kakashi’s unabating gaze.

Kakashi purses his lips, clearly not happy with Obito’s answer. “I’m here for you, remember?” he says, stretching out his syllables in an attempt to keep Obito’s attention. When Obito still does not look at him, he huffs. _“Obito.”_

“I’m okay, Kakashi, really,” Obito insists, though the look in Kakashi’s eyes tells him that he doesn’t believe it one bit.

“…Fine,” Kakashi says after a moment, abruptly turning around and forcing the door back open. “Don’t talk to me, then.” The tie on his apron loosens as he walks, and Obito watches in mild amusement as his boyfriend reaches back to haughtily tighten it.

“Okay, _fine,”_ Obito finally relents, rolling his eyes when Kakashi immediately turns back around, arms crossed in an expectant manner. “Sorry. It’s just the same old shit you’re probably tired of hearing. My dad. My mom. Izumi. I don’t go a day without being bothered by one or more of them.”

Kakashi’s expression softens. “There are a lot of things I’m _tired_ of _hearing,_ but trust me, Obito, I’ll listen to you no matter what.” He looks down, brows furrowed in contemplation. “How is Izumi?”

“She’s at home with her friend,” Obito answers, moving to sit down at one of the empty tables. “She only ever talks to Hana, and that’s not an exaggeration. She _literally_ does not talk to me anymore. No good mornings or hellos. I think it has something to do with the fight I had with the asshole. I don’t know if she’s mad or just upset or…” Obito sighs. “I really know how to fuck things up, huh?”

Kakashi takes the seat across from him. “You had a right to be angry with him,” Kakashi utters, and Obito shrugs his shoulders, not believing it himself. “He said such horrible things to you. I probably would have lost it, too.”

“Why would Izumi be mad at me, though?” Obito asks, confusion and frustration evident in his eyes as he stares helplessly at Kakashi. “The fucker hasn’t even been around lately, probably running off to waste more of his money and time in some shithole across town like the coward he is. I try my best for the both of us, but she doesn’t even give me the time of day anymore. It fucking hurts when someone you love won’t even acknowledge you. A part of me feels like I should just give up.”

“Don’t say that, she needs you,” Kakashi tells him, eyes sympathetic, but Obito merely looks away. “I don’t think she’s actually _mad_ at you. I think she’s just upset…to have to hear those terrible things…it sucks. There must be something else going on, but I don’t think it’s your fault.”

“I’m not actually going to give up on her,” Obito murmurs. “It’s just so fucking tiring, worrying all of the time. Worrying about her. About my _dad._ About what the fuck we’re going to eat, or what the fuck I’m going to do to get us out of this hell. Whether Izumi will ever be happy again. Whether life will ever stop screwing me over. I’m so _tired_ of having to worry all of the fucking time. I wish I could just catch a break.”

Kakashi gives him a sad smile. “People like us don’t get breaks.” Obito does not say anything, but his tired expression solemnly agrees for him.

Silence washes over them, Obito clearly too exhausted to say anything more about the matter. They sit like that for a few more moments, Kakashi observing his boyfriend carefully. His fatigue is evident in his posture, in the dark rings beneath his eyes. Kakashi rubs his shoulder mindlessly, seemingly thinking about what to say next when Obito suddenly notices something.

“Aren’t you hot?” Obito asks, nodding towards the sweater Kakashi wore under his apron.

Kakashi blinks in confusion, glancing down at his sleeves for a moment before slowly shaking his head. “I’m fine. The fabric is thin,” he says, fingers brushing against the cloth. “The weather is starting to get a little cooler anyways.” He lets out a soft, almost regretful sigh. “Summer is almost over.”

Obito feels his stomach fill with dread at the words. _Summer is almost over,_ and he’s spent most of it with his shoulders hunched over, holding what felt like the weight of the entire world. He supposes that he feels this way every summer anyways. But the end of the season also means the return of school. _Their last year._

“Are you excited?” Obito decides to ask, somewhat jokingly, hoping to lighten up the mood a bit, and Kakashi gives him a look of question. “For school,” he clarifies. “It’ll be our last year. After this, _we’ll be free.”_

A small smile forms on Kakashi’s face. “I’m…not excited. Quite the opposite, actually. But you better not drop out somehow, Uchiha Obito,” he teases, and Obito laughs good-naturedly, glad that his boyfriend decided to entertain his attempt at a distraction. “We’re supposed to graduate together, remember?”

“I’d never forget,” Obito answers sincerely. “We’re going to graduate, run away, and get the fuck out of here, Kakashi. You, Izumi, and I.” He speaks with a playful cadence, but there are hints of sincerity in his words. “I’ll find us a place somewhere far, far away, and we’ll finally leave this shithole.”

Kakashi hums. “Ambitious,” he lilts as Obito reaches out to take his hand. “I know I said I wanted to run away with you, but it’ll be harder than that, you know.” Kakashi raises his eyebrows somewhat chidingly. “A lot harder than just taking your car and driving out of here.”

“I know,” Obito says with a nod, rubbing his thumbs over the back of Kakashi’s hands. “I don’t care how hard it is or how long it’ll take. We’ll do it. We’ll get out of here. Together.” He isn’t sure how much of this is a joke versus how much is sincere. It’s an odd mixture of both, and his heart feels oddly light as he confidently continues, “You know, I’ve already been looking at a few places—”

“We haven’t even graduated yet, Obito,” Kakashi stops him, laughing at his boyfriend’s eagerness. “And I thought _I_ was the crazy one. You might want to slow down there,” he says teasingly, and Obito feels the smile on his face grow sheepish, cheeks warming ever so slightly. _“One step at a time,_ remember?” The words sound surreal, but Kakashi’s voice, laced with amusement, is comforting. 

“Of course,” Obito automatically agrees, but his heart still beats with the same foolish hope, the same foolish _ambition._ It always does when he thinks about a better future, a future far away from here, _a future with Kakashi._ That future is far, definitely far, but they’ll make it, he promises to himself. _They’ll make it there, somehow. “One step at a time.”_

-

When Obito returns home that night, he is a bit surprised to find that Hana is still there. Ever since the fight with his father, the girl had taken it upon herself to go back home earlier than usual despite Obito’s insistence that she doesn’t need to. The words had affected her more than Obito had realized, and he adds it to the list of things his father has ruined for their family. Even more surprising is the heart wrenching look on her face, her eyes red, a dried stream of tears.

“Hana,” Obito carefully greets her as he stares down at the shaking girl, “is something wrong?”

Hana chews on her lip anxiously, and she spares one look back at Izumi’s closed bedroom door before shaking her head. “I have to go home now,” she quietly tells him, eyes trained on the carpeted floor beneath them. “But please… _please don’t leave her alone anymore.”_

Obito’s frown deepens at the words, his heart throbbing at the solemn request. “Did she tell you something?”

Hana does not look up nor does she say anything, but her hesitance answers for her. Obito has to bite back the urge to question her more, knowing that no matter how much he asked, she would never tell. Not without Izumi’s word.

Hana’s voice is shaky when she does speak. “I-I know you’re busy and that you have to w-work…but…but please, please don’t leave Izumi alone anymore. When I’m here, it’s okay. But when I’m not…” She finally looks up, and Obito is surprised to find that despite the sheen of unshed tears glossing over her eyes, her look is shakily strong. _“Stay with her._ Don’t ever leave her alone.”

Obito’s chest aches. It’s suffocating, almost. He doesn’t know what’s going on, or why he’s being asked to do this. He wishes Hana would tell him, he wishes _Izumi_ would tell him. “She won’t let me.”

“Even if she pushes you away,” Hana insists, hands clenched into small fists of determination. “Even if she tells you to leave her alone. She doesn’t really mean it. I can’t tell you what she’s told me, no matter how much I want to, but please do this at least. She can’t be alone anymore. She _can’t._ Not _ever.”_

“I…I’ll try,” Obito forces himself to say, but he still hesitates. A part of him still isn’t sure if he’s welcomed, if Izumi is still upset with him or not. He doesn’t want to cross any lines. He _wants_ to be there for her, _he really does._ But if the past year has said anything, Izumi does not share that sentiment. She has pushed him away far too many times.

“I know she hasn’t told you, but you make her feel safe,” Hana tells him, voice barely above a whisper as she brushes her hair behind her ear. “Stay with her. Even at night. She can’t be alone anymore. She just can’t.”

The repetition of the phrase leaves Obito with unease. He wants to know. He is tired of all of the secrets, of never knowing the truth. But Obito bites his lip to stifle that notion, forcing himself to nod and watching as Hana’s eyes lit up with a small amount of hope.

 _“Thank you,”_ she breathes before bowing and bidding him a good night, hurriedly leaving the house without another word. 

It takes minutes of silence before Obito finally moves. He had meant to contemplate on Hana’s words, but his mind was void of comprehensive thoughts. Perhaps he was just too tired to properly think.

When he reaches the door to Izumi’s room, he hesitates. The door is closed. The lights are off. He does not feel welcomed.

_But you make her feel safe._

Obito opens the door. Izumi’s shadowy figure huddled in bed greets him. The stillness of the room makes it feel as if there are a million miles between them.

Somehow, Obito can tell that she isn’t asleep, though she does not say anything as he walks in. His steps are soft as he crosses the room, and he hovers quietly over his sister’s still figure, looking down at her with saddened eyes. Her own are closed, but the twitch of her cheek confirms that she is still awake, and it tells Obito that she knows that he is there. Obito turns away, moving to sit down on the floor beside her bed. He leans his head against the mattress, crossing his arms over his chest as he stretches his legs out over the floor. It’s stiff and uncomfortable, and a part of him feels awkward for intruding like this. But Izumi does not express any protests, nor does she say anything at all.

_Stay with her._

“I’m here now, Izumi,” Obito whispers into the darkness, his voice sounding louder than it actually is through the silence of the night. He swallows down his nerves, feeling a bit foolish for being so afraid to speak to his own little sister. “Sleep well. I won’t leave your side, I promise. You’re safe with me.” She still does not answer, but Obito hears her comforters shift, and he knows that his message has been received. A small, sleepy smile graces his lips despite her lack of verbal response, but what he did get was good enough. “Good night.” He finally closes his eyes. “I love you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just to make it clear, Obito has no idea that Kakashi has stopped taking his meds. He thinks he's still on them, and so does Kakashi's uncle.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: mentions of sexual abuse.

The morning comes. Obito’s limbs ache from the terribly uncomfortable position, but he is surprised to find that a blanket has been placed carefully over his shoulders. He turns around to peer at the empty bed behind him, Izumi’s stuffed animals gazing back at him quietly. Izumi is not there, but the blanket’s presence tells Obito that he had been welcomed after all.

 _They were right._ Both Kakashi and Hana were. Izumi wasn’t mad at him.

He lets out a soft sigh of relief, smiling a little to himself as he folds the blanket back up and places it at the end of the bed. Obito then heads toward the door, the sounds of the shower running from the bathroom down the hall letting Obito know of her whereabouts.

He considers cooking breakfast, only to hear soft noises from the living room. It’s almost comical how quickly his mood dampens at the mere detail. Obito feels dread fill his system, legs moving for him as he approaches the sound. He already has a bad feeling coming. 

The TV is on, the source of the noises, softly playing the morning news through the haze of the morning. He grabs for the remote on the table to turn it off, only to catch a glimpse of a certain object.

_His father’s phone._

Obito eyes the device wearily, its black screen staring lifelessly back at him. _So he came home this morning._

He has half the mind to leave it where it is and return to the kitchen, but a part of him begs him to look at it. Obito doesn’t give it much thought, hands moving for him as he picks the phone up and turns the screen on. A plain background flashes back at him, but one by one, the notifications pile down the screen. Obito’s eyes briefly skim over the standard weather notification and morning news articles, but his stare trains itself on one tab specifically. His eyes slowly widen at the ten-digit number displayed across the screen.

_It is his number._

_And his current location._

His heart drops to the bottom of his chest, blood as cold as ice.

A door opens behind him, but he does not turn to look.

_“Obito?”_

He feels a presence by his back, but he is unable to tear his eyes away from the petrifying screen.

“What are you doing with—” His father cuts himself off, realization evident in his sharp inhale, and when the man reaches out to take his phone back, Obito holds it out of reach, turning back around and shoving him away.

 _“You’ve been tracking my phone this entire fucking time?”_ Obito questions him in complete and utter disbelief, phone still in hand and shaking from the intense force of his hold. His mind struggles to keep up as a thousand different thoughts cross his head. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

His father eyes Obito before reaching out for the phone again. Obito takes a defensive step backwards, unwilling to let go, but his heart begins to pick up in speed, his entire body sending sparks of fear up and down his veins. His mind seems to stutter as it blindly navigates through the throng of thoughts. Things begin to feel cold. Too cold, a cooled sweat forming on his temples.

“Now, Obito,” his father tries, “I was just looking out for you—”

“Don’t pull that bullshit on me, you’ve been fucking _watching_ me, you god damn sociopath!” Obito’s own phone weighs a million pounds in his pocket, and his chest begins to heave with the force of his breaths. The first piece suddenly clicks into place. “That’s why you bought me a new phone, why you got it fixed so fucking quickly—” Obito steps back again as his father approaches him, the man’s eyes filling with an intense amount of aggravation. _“Don’t fucking touch me!”_

“Give me my phone, Obito, you don’t know what you’re talking about,” his father stresses, and this time when he reaches out, he grabs Obito by the wrist with a grip so tight Obito lets out a hiss of pain.

Obito struggles to pull himself free, dropping his father’s phone and letting the device fall to the floor with a loud clatter. His father’s eyes widen as he immediately releases his grip, Obito stumbling away. More pieces begin to fall together, the severity of the revelation finally seeming to knock him over the head. His blood is blue as he continues to back away from his father, from the phone, from the man’s darkened eyes.

 _“You’ve been watching me,”_ Obito breathes, eyes wide and heart beating a mile a minute. His stomach churns and his system fills with an overwhelming sense of alarm. _He’s been watching me, he’s been watching me this entire time._ Obito’s body goes numb as he watches his father retrieve his phone.

The man inspects the device for cracks, gaze unreadable as the two stand in silence. Obito can hear his blood rushing through his head, and the pain in his temples throbs mercilessly. He feels his own phone vibrate against his leg, and when he pulls it out, his mother’s name flashes across the screen. A sharp spike of pain seems to spear him through the heart, and Obito’s body begins to shake uncontrollably. It feels as if his head is being squeezed together, the pressure unbearably strong.

_Run._

_Run!_ something yells at him, and suddenly he is no longer in the living room, he is sprinting down the driveway, jumping into his car and pulling away from his home at the speed of light. _Run! Run!_

His mind is blank, eyes blurring in and out of focus as he drives away, far, far away from his home, his father. Obito’s heart beats at a rate that suffocates him, and he struggles to maintain his breath as he speeds down the road.

The car jerks as he turns, but all he can think about is that phone, that god forsaken phone and the terrifying revelation that his father had been keeping track of him this entire time. Obito didn’t know what that meant, he couldn’t even think, the sounds of his blood rushing past his ears disorienting him and preventing him from being able to piece together comprehensible thoughts.

 _Run! Run!_ is all he can hear, all he understands, and he does as told.

_Run!_

His body is cold, so cold. Buildings blur by as he speeds down the road, the car’s engine filling the silence, loud enough to drain out the sound of his own thumping heart.

 _Run! Run!_ His pressure on the accelerator increases, and he swerves in and out of traffic as he lets his paling hands guide him.

_Run! Run!_

He can barely breathe.

The car stops. He stumbles out.

_Run!_

Obito pushes his way into the frozen yogurt shop, immediately rushing around the corner and pulling his startled boyfriend into his arms. He sucks in a harsh breath, and the air is cold as it sears through his lungs. 

“O-Obito?” Kakashi stammers, pushing him away with a bewildered stare. “There’s…there’s customers—” He immediately stops himself from continuing upon seeing the clearly panicked state that Obito is in, surprise and then worry taking his expression at the mere sight. Kakashi spares a tentative glance at the couple who had resided at a table in the corner, the two watching them shrewdly. Kakashi curses a small _fuck it_ beneath his breath before grabbing Obito’s hand, quickly pulling him towards the backdoor before anything else might happen.

Obito does not say anything, body numbed as Kakashi guides him, shutting the door behind them. The sound of the door clicking into place bounces across the walls of the empty stairwell with such a resounding echo it snaps Obito back into the present. His mind searches for answers, _any answers,_ but it cannot find any.

Kakashi audibly gulps, turning to look at his boyfriend in concern. “What are you doing here, Obito? What happened?”

Obito cannot seem to find his words as he stares helplessly back at Kakashi. He lifts his arm to pull his boyfriend close once more, but he’s horrified to find that his hand is shaking. His throat seems to close up on him as he stumbles backwards, back hitting the wall as he holds his head in his hands. _Cold._ He feels so _cold._

Kakashi’s eyes widen as he reaches forward. “Obito—”

“He’s been watching me,” Obito finally says, hands obscuring his face, tone pathetically weak. “He’s been watching me, Kakashi, he’s been fucking _watching me.”_ Saying the words out loud once more feels like he is being drenched with ice water. _Cold._ Everything feels _cold._

 _“What?_ Who’s been watching you?” Kakashi takes a hold of Obito’s shoulders, attempting to coax Obito’s hands away from his face. Kakashi’s eyes fill with fear as he speaks, “Was it that man? That man with the gun?”

Obito shakes his head, but the movement only serves to make the pain in his temples flare. _Cold. He is so cold._ “My fath—that…the asshole, him, he’s been…he’s been _watching me—”_ Obito attempts to swallow, but his throat constricts in protest. The words fall from his lips without his control, tumbling, spiraling, sucked right out of his head. It’s all a fog, a cold fog. He can’t feel his arms, his legs. He can’t feel _anything._ “He’s been fucking watching me this entire time, this entire fucking time—”

Kakashi stares at him in confusion, but his eyes are careful, recognizing the haze that surrounds Obito’s shaking form. His words are slow as he speaks, “How? What are you even talking about?”

Obito’s hands finally drop from his face, and when he looks up, his eyes are clouded. “My phone. He’s been keeping track of me through my phone. He always knew where I was. No matter where I went, he knew, he knew, he fucking _knew—”_ Kakashi immediately grabs his arms in an attempt to steady him when Obito appears to stumble, but Obito flinches, pushing Kakashi away in the same fashion he had done to his father.

Kakashi falls back onto the door, glancing back up at Obito in surprise. Obito doesn’t notice what he’s done as he paces from one end of the stairwell to the other. “Obito,” Kakashi calls out, but when his boyfriend does not respond, he repeats it, “Obito. Obito. _Obito!”_

“What am I going to fucking do, Kakashi?” Obito finally says, and Kakashi swallows when he sees anger begin to rise in his eyes. Obito seems to jump with the force of his own words, and he bites down harshly on his lip, willing his voice to remain even. “I can’t…I don’t know what to do. Where the hell am I supposed to go? I don’t _understand—”_ He cuts himself off when a tremor wracks his body. His limbs are numb yet they continue to shiver.

“Do you have your phone on you now?” Kakashi quietly asks him.

Obito shakes his head, unable to bring himself to speak as images of his father burning their memories in the backyard suddenly cloud his mind. _Cold. Cold. That night was so cold._

“What about Izumi?”

Obito freezes.

_…Izumi?_

He remembers the blanket around his shoulders. The stuffed animals cuddled in a bunch. Her sleeping form through the darkness.

He looks up, the panic in his widened eyes reignited as he suddenly pushes past Kakashi to get to the door. “Izumi,” he shakily repeats, voice barely above a whisper, but Kakashi grabs his arm before he can get away.

“Where are you going?” Kakashi questions him, trying to meet Obito’s eyes, but his boyfriend frantically tries to pull away. 

“I have to go back,” Obito answers distractedly. “I left Izumi there, Kakashi.” His muscles tense as he realizes what he had just said. His temples throb painfully against his skull. _“I left Izumi there with that fucker!”_ His lungs feel tight, breathing restrained as he mumbles nonsense to himself. 

Kakashi’s own expression morphs into one of fear. “Obito, you can’t—”

“What am I supposed to fucking do?” Obito deliriously demands, and Kakashi swallows nervously. _He has never seen Obito like this before._ “I can’t trust him, I can’t trust him at all! Let alone with her? I don’t know what that asshole wants, but I sure as hell am not letting him near Izumi ever again—”

Kakashi hesitates, but after staring into Obito’s eyes for a moment longer, he pushes forward. “You’re in no shape to drive back,” he firmly states, his own eyes filling with authority as Obito glares back. “I don’t even know how you got here in one piece, but there’s no way I’m letting you go out like this now.”

“You-you can’t keep me here, you can’t fucking keep me here when she is…Izumi is with that…that fucker—”

“What good are you going to do if you can’t even talk straight?” Kakashi snaps, refusing to let go even as Obito’s glare only hardens.

Obito’s mouth falls open in stupefied disbelief. “Why are you trying to stop me?” he splutters, and the words seem to escape him as he tries to reach for them. “I thought you cared about her, too!”

“I _do_ care about her, but I also care about you, Obito,” Kakashi retorts, unwilling to back down. Not now, not when Obito is like this. “You always let your fucking temper get to your head, and it always leads you to do stupid things like _this.”_

Obito lets out a growl, but the cloud in his mind prevents him from fully comprehending his boyfriend’s words. “She’s my _sister,”_ he spits. “She’s my sister and she’s alone with that bitch!”

“I know you want to keep her away from him, but please, Obito, you’re going to hurt yourself if you go about this without your head,” Kakashi tries to tell him, but Obito merely lets out a frustrated shout.

 _“You don’t know anything,”_ Obito spits, shoving Kakashi away from him. “You don’t know anything about this. About what I have to deal with. You can’t know. You don’t know him. You don’t know how twisted that asshole is,” Obito growls. His stomach builds with his aggravation. It churns and pushes against his intestines, aching and twisting unbearably within him. “I can’t just stand here doing nothing.” He still cannot breathe. “I can’t just stand here when that fucker might be _hurting her—”_

“You’re just jumping to conclusions, Obito,” Kakashi tries to reason once more, but his voice shakes as he speaks. _He doesn’t believe it himself._ “You don’t know that, you don’t know that he’s hurting her—”

“And you think he _isn’t?”_ Obito scoffs harshly, and his eyes burn from going for too long without blinking. He forces them shut, and the coldness seems to return. When he opens his eyes again, the pain in his head intensifies. Pieces keep falling together, _but they hurt._ “Izumi doesn’t even smile anymore! She’s quiet and afraid all of the fucking time. Any time I come near her, she flinches away! What else can that fucking mean? He’s doing something to her, I _know_ he is—”

“She might just be upset, she might—”

“For _fuck’s_ sake, Kakashi, you should know well enough that nobody acts like that just because they’re a little _upset.”_ Obito runs an aggravated hand through his hair, his eyes stinging with frustration. “I should have known. I should have fucking known he was up to _something._ There were so many signs, so many fucking signs, and now I’m _here,_ doing _nothing_ when he can be doing something to her _right now.”_ _Cold. Cold._ He gives Kakashi another glare, but this time, Kakashi is unable to fight back, his own expression helpless and filled with worry. Obito pays it no mind. “I’m fucking leaving. I’m going back. It was stupid of me to come here, I should have taken her.” The words roll off of his tongue carelessly. He does not care what they mean. 

Kakashi’s posture stiffens as Obito moves towards the door once more. “Obito,” he says, but he’s cut off by the sound of his own phone ringing, and both him and Obito pause in their tracks. Kakashi frowns, pulling the device out and staring confusedly at the screen. Obito gives him a questioning look. “It’s Genma,” Kakashi murmurs in surprise. “Hello?” Obito stares silently as Kakashi’s lips part in confusion. “Y-Yes…he’s with me…”

Obito feels as if holes are being drilled into his head. _He is wasting time._ “I’m leaving,” he says with a scoff.

Kakashi grabs his wrist once more, shaking his head and holding his phone out for the older male to take. “Genma wanted to talk to you.”

Obito glares back at Kakashi in irritation. “I don’t give a shit about him or what he has to say to me right now—”

Kakashi’s grip on his wrist tightens enough to force Obito’s attention back onto him. “I don’t know what he wants either, but it sounded urgent,” Kakashi tells him with a glare. “Take your head out of your ass and answer it.”

Obito’s sharpened gaze does not leave Kakashi’s, but he takes the phone anyways. His body is still numb as it moves. His mind can barely keep up. _“What?”_ he demands into the phone as Kakashi finally lets go of his arm.

_“Why the fuck didn’t you answer your phone? I tried calling you about a billion times! And what the hell were you and Kakashi yelling about—”_

“Genma, I’m going to give you two fucking seconds to tell me why the hell you wanted to speak to me,” Obito snarls into the phone, tone low and filled with warning. “I’m serious this time. I don’t have _time_ for your bullshit.”

_“Well, it’s not bullshit this time, asshole. There’s fucking cops surrounding your neighborhood and your house specifically, if that means anything to you.”_

Obito’s face seems to pale. “What?” His breath leaves his lungs.

 _“Police. Lots of them. Flashing lights and everything. At your house. I was just driving when I saw a ton of them suddenly swerve into your shitty neighborhood, so I followed and lo and behold.”_ Obito can hear shouting from the other line. _“Where the fuck are you?”_

Obito’s entire body stiffens as he struggles to understand the situation.

_Izumi._

“Izumi,” he breathes, the phone nearly dropping from his hand as he feels his knees go weak. _“Izumi.” He’s cold, he’s cold again._

 _“What the fuck are you saying? Get your dumbass over here!”_ More shouts are heard, and an unmistakable bang resounds through the line. It petrifies him. _“Holy shit—”_

“W-What—Obito!” Kakashi yells when Obito suddenly shoves the phone back into his hands, running out of the door without another word. _“Obito!”_ he hears Kakashi’s panicked call from behind again, but Obito does not care, shins burning as he sprints out towards the streets and back to his haphazardly parked car.

_Police._

_At his home._

Images of that night from so long ago flash before his eyes.

That deafening sound. It made his ears ring just thinking about it. His eyes sting as he starts the car, hands shaking as they grip the wheel. His father’s smile appears, and the taste of blood coats his tongue.

 _Run!_ he hears.

But he has nowhere else to go.

-

Obito slams on the brakes as he pulls into his neighborhood, startled to find the plethora of people and cop cars littered around the street. He struggles to catch his breath as his eyes dart from one end of the street to the other, watching as crowds formed and flashes of blinding red and blue danced over their shadowed bodies. He can barely see his house, stumbling out of his car and letting out a curse at the chaotic sight.

_Izumi._

_Where is Izumi?_

Obito pushes his way through the crowd, teeth clenched together as he struggles to reach his home. Policemen are shouting at the swarming crowd to back away in an attempt to create order. An ambulance is pulling out of the street, loud sirens screeching as the vehicle speeds down the road, forcing people out of the way. Obito continues to shove his way through, screaming his little sister’s name in an attempt to find her through the chaos.

“There you are!” Obito lets out a gasp as he’s suddenly grabbed, eyes meeting Genma’s own sharp ones. “Where the fuck were you? They fucking shot someone!”

Obito’s blood goes cold with the words, and he can hear the ringing in his ears, the sharp pain that riddled his nightmares. He lets out a shaky breath. “Who? _Who?”_ he demands, and Genma’s hold on him tightens when he tries to get away.

“Some man, I don’t know who the fuck he was, but he was _insane._ He was tripping out, they surrounded him outside but then he charged and they fucking—”

Obito’s throat goes dry. _He can’t listen to this._ “Izumi,” he says again, finally pulling away from the younger male and crossing through the crowd. “Izumi, where’s _Izumi?”_ He repeats it over and over again like a broken record, words slurring together as he stumbled through. _Izumi. Izumi. Izumi._

“Who?” Genma says, confusion evident in the pitch of his voice as he follows. “Fuck, I don’t know who the hell that is. Is she your sister or something? Shit, I don’t know.” Genma grabs Obito by the shoulder in an attempt to draw him back. “But who the hell _was_ that guy?” he demands, and Obito immediately looks away, unable to think – _unwilling_ to think. “Was that your fucking dad, because I couldn’t even _recognize_ him—”

The pain in his temples sharpens once more. He pushes Genma away and continues forward, forcing the horrifying thought to the back of his mind.

_Izumi. Izumi._

Obito’s eyes widen when he spots the door to his home open, his sister finally appearing from its depths with a blanket wrapped tightly around her form, an officer quickly escorting her out. Tears are streaming from her eyes, her hair a completely tangled mess, a red mark against her cheek in the distinct shape of a hand. Obito’s eyes widen at the sight alone, and he forces himself forward, pushing people out of his way and ripping through the police tape with a loud cry of her name. He does not think, only runs towards his sister in desperation.

“Izumi!” he screams, only to be intercepted by a couple of guards. “That’s my _sister!”_ he frantically shouts, struggling against their unrelenting hold. “Izumi! _Izumi!”_ He watches pathetically as the girl merely walks by, the officer holding her forcing her to look forward. 

Sobs wrack Izumi’s body as she is escorted towards a nearby cop car. Obito thrashes against the officers’ arms, shouts of her name ripping through his esophagus and echoing pathetically through the open air. She suddenly trips from the force of which she is being pushed, and she falls onto their driveway with a cry, blanket falling from her shoulders and revealing the tank she wore underneath. Obito’s heart nearly stops in his chest at the sight of angry red lashes on her exposed skin, and he lets out another scream of her name as he struggles to break free.

Another officer approaches him, taking a discerning glance at Obito before murmuring something to the men holding him back. Obito continues to scream for his sister, feeling his breath thin with every shout, every heave of his chest. His muscles begin to ache from fighting, and he feels as if he’s going to collapse.

“Bring him, too,” is all Obito registers from the officer as he’s suddenly being taken away. His feet scrape against the pavement forcefully as he stumbles forward.

Obito’s eyes widen in realization, another police car quickly coming into view. The one Izumi had been in is already beginning to drive off. _“No!”_ he screams, attempting to reach out towards the retreating car, but the hold on his arms are too strong. “Izumi! _Izumi!”_ He thrashes forward, breaking free of their hold and falling to his knees, his palms digging into the asphalt below him. _“Izumi!”_ he cries out, and he’s shocked to find drips of blood beneath him. He only then notices the faint trail of red, and the smears staining his hands. He blanches at the sight alone as hands force him back up, the two officers demanding that he comes with them.

_Cold._

_He feels so cold._

_“Obito!”_ he hears, and Obito glances back at the sound of his name, nearly tripping on his own two feet as the officers continued to drag him forward. He struggles to trace her voice. Hana stands there, behind the tape amongst the crowd, her own cheeks streaked with tears. “I’m sorry!” she shouts over the chaos. Obito’s lips part as if he is going to say something, but nothing comes out. He does not have anything to say. All of his words have escaped him. “I’m _so sorry,_ but I had to, I had to—”

Obito does not get to hear the rest of what she has to say as he is shoved into the back of a police car, the door slamming shut behind him.

-

Kakashi runs his fingers through his hair, eyes burning with fatigue as he tosses his phone to the side, unable to read through his unanswered messages to Obito any longer. It’s been a week since Obito and his sister disappeared. Kakashi tried to look for him, but Obito’s house had been swarmed with police and news reporters, those vultures looking for more details, more headlines to sensationalize. Assuming that Obito had been taken into custody, Kakashi had visited the police station for answers, but none were willing to disclose any more information concerning the infamous family.

He hasn’t had any contact with Obito the entire week, and in all honesty, it _sucked._ Kakashi found himself missing Obito, missing his comforting presence and the feeling of his hand in his. Kakashi wonders if this is how Obito had felt when _he_ had disappeared, when _he_ had shut him out only months before. Kakashi had disappeared far more times than Obito has as well, and he regrets being so careless about his whereabouts.

Kakashi lets out a deep breath, falling back against his bed in an effort to clear his mind. Whenever he closed his eyes, he would see the black ink of the morning newspaper, the haunting words trailing across his eyelids like film. His heart ached with guilt, memories of the day he had told Obito he was overreacting playing over and over in his head.

Even Kakashi couldn’t believe his own words when he had said them, but back then he truly did not know what else to say. Everything happened too quickly, too sporadically that Kakashi simply could not keep up with Obito’s irrational behavior. He was only able to say the first few things that came to mind, desperate to say something, _anything_ that would keep his boyfriend out of harm’s way. But thinking back to it now, Kakashi felt pathetic. To have said such naïve words out loud and discovering the reality of it all felt like a stake through the heart.

He knew texting Obito was useless despite trying anyways. Obito had thrown his phone away, and with no other method of contact, Kakashi was left to sit in the dark and wait with bated breath for his return. But it was difficult not knowing anything about your own boyfriend, such as where he is or even how he is. Kakashi’s managed to pull enough information together to at least understand Obito’s situation, snippets of newspaper articles playing through his mind like a broken record. 

_Local father of two reported to have been abusing his children for years—_

_—On Saturday morning, at approximately 10:42 AM, police had received a call from a young girl—_

_—had been found in his home with his daughter, Uchiha Izumi—_

_—appeared to be experiencing symptoms of withdrawal—_

_—extremely aggressive—_

_—gunned down as he attempted to assault an officer—_

_—later found to be in possession of hundreds of files of child pornography—_

_—had forced his daughter to perform sexual acts in an effort to pay for his addiction—_

_—Uchiha Izumi appeared to be harboring multiple bruises and lashes from a belt—_

_—the young girl had broken down in front of officers—_

_—screamed for her father and mother—_

Kakashi found that he could never finish these articles. They disgusted him to no end. Some were far too invasive, others far too exaggerated, and each painted different artificial pictures, none of which even considering the full impact of their words. It was hard to pull out fact from _fluff._ And the numerous accounts from neighbors surrounding the home, students who claimed to have known either Izumi or Obito, workers who had worked with their father, were all _bullshit._ Flowery words to fill up space, meaningless expressions of surprise or offers of condolences. None of these people…the interviewers, the interviewees, the writers and publishers and readers of their unremarkable local newspaper… _none of them actually gave a shit about Obito or his family._ All they cared about was the story.

It was absolutely _disgusting._

Needless to say, Kakashi feels absolutely pathetic.

Pathetic and lost.

He has no idea what to do. Alone, all he can really do now is worry and lament his own shortcomings.

Kakashi had tried and failed to protect Obito, only succeeding in making the situation _worse._ All that wasted effort, the meaningless words he spewed in an effort to prevent Obito from hurting himself did nothing but stall the inevitable. Kakashi couldn’t even begin to imagine how all of this news and constant exposure has been affecting Obito. Izumi’s abuse, his father’s hospitalization…it felt as if everything had fallen apart within the blink of an eye.

It was foolish of Kakashi to allow this to go on for so long. _Kakashi_ should have called the police, _Kakashi_ should have reported Obito’s selfish father to the authorities when he had the chance, but he didn’t want to betray Obito’s trust. Obito had specifically asked him not to call, and despite Kakashi’s personal conscious, he had complied with the plea mainly because he had decided that he would trust Obito. Trust Obito’s call. He trusted that Obito would find a _different_ way out of that terrible home.

But he was wrong, and looking back at it now, Kakashi knows it was foolish of him to even think it possible. 

If Kakashi had called sooner, had he gone with his instincts and done what he knew was right, could he have prevented this madness? Could Kakashi have somehow put an end to their nightmare before it escalated so severely? 

Kakashi should have protected Obito when he had the chance…he shouldn’t have been so _quiet._ Obito had always dodged direct questions about his situation with his father, and it seems as though that was a fatal mistake on both of their ends.

Kakashi should have been more assertive, he should have fought to maintain Obito’s safety. _Somehow. Some way._ Kakashi didn’t even know how he would have been able to do so, given the fact that he had been struggling with his medications, but somehow… _somehow he should have protected Obito._ Tears of frustration begin to brim Kakashi’s eyes, the thought of his failure to protect the one person he loved most stretching his insides, a painful punishment for his pathetic will.

_All because you couldn’t control your own thoughts._

_All because you couldn’t set aside your own problems and focus on Obito’s._

_All because of you…_ Kakashi rubs roughly at his eyes.Obito had always pushed away his own issues in favor of comforting Kakashi. It was always Kakashi…always for Kakashi…never for Obito…he felt so…helpless.

_“You can’t protect him.”_

Kakashi lets out a shaky breath, dread filling his chest as he rolls onto his side to face the wall, unwilling to look, already knowing what is to come. Iruka’s presence seems to grow in strength every day, every hour, every minute, every second. His words seem to scratch themselves into the white walls of Kakashi’s bedroom, black ink so dusty and incriminating, stringing together thoughts far too familiar for comfort, reminding Kakashi over and over again that this nightmare is a _reality._

 _“You shouldn’t protect him,”_ Iruka goes on, his voice projecting across the word-marred walls of Kakashi’s small bedroom. “He doesn’t care for your protection. He doesn’t want it. No one would, not from someone as _unstable_ as you.”

Kakashi swallows, fingers clenching around his sheets like a desperate anchor. “Leave me alone,” he whispers.

“You can’t even take care of yourself, let alone _him,”_ Iruka says, punctuating the taunt with a loud and mocking laugh. “All this time, he’s been there for you, yet you can’t even spare him the benefit of your own comfort. You’ve sacrificed so much already, but _it isn’t enough._ You still can’t keep up with him. You do nothing of use. Nothing but sit here and mourn for _yourself.”_

 _“Please,”_ Kakashi breathes, curling further into his bed, _“stop it._ I don’t want to hear this.”

“You don’t want to hear this because you know it’s _true,”_ Iruka says, and Kakashi lets out a sound of frustration, forcing himself out of bed and out of his room.

The air of the apartment feels stale as it hits him, but he quickly makes his way towards the kitchen before Iruka can continue his tirade. Kakashi grabs a cup and begins to pour himself some water, downing the glass and concentrating on the feeling of the cool liquid rushing down his throat.

Kakashi catches sight of the morning newspaper on the countertop before him, the image of his boyfriend’s home plastered over the front page. He grabs it, tossing it into the trash with a disgusted scowl.

 _“Face it, Kakashi,”_ Iruka says, leaning back against the fridge with his arms folded across his chest, “you can’t do anything to help him. You never could, not really. But this problem is bigger than the both of you.”

“Our problems are _always_ bigger than us,” Kakashi says with a scoff, slamming his empty glass back down onto the counter as he turns to glare at the hallucination. “He was there for me when I was falling apart. _I_ should be there for him this time.”

Iruka lets out a laugh, shaking his head chidingly. “Yeah, you _should_ be there for him. But you _can’t._ You don’t even know where he is now, so what could you possibly do for him? You can’t control yourself. It’ll always be about you. As soon as things start going bad, as soon as things are no longer about _you,_ you’re just going to do what you always do. Run. Forget about your problems. Distract yourself with something else, _someone_ else.”

Kakashi gives him a look of disgust. “I’m not like that.”

“Even so, you can’t handle this,” Iruka states, eyes brutally cold. “You can’t handle _him,_ and he knows it. That’s why he walks all over you. He knows that he’s the only one you see, and he takes advantage of that, knowing that because you’ll never leave him, that because you’re so desperate for him, he can do whatever he likes.”

Kakashi shakes his head frantically, both an attempt to reassure himself and to dispel such disgusting thoughts out of his head. “He isn’t like that, he’s…he’s…” Kakashi trails off, watching aphids glow against the surface of his refrigerator, surrounding Iruka’s figure, forming a lime halo. He swallows down his nerves, but dust crumbles down his throat like dirt.

“He’s…he’s… _what?”_ Iruka mocks, and as he pushes away from the fridge, aphids drop to the ground in a lifeless flurry. Kakashi flinches, forcing himself to look away. “You don’t actually know him, Kakashi. Not the real him.”

“You’re so full of shit,” Kakashi murmurs, turning away, but he begins to cough as the dirt he had swallowed burns at his esophagus, prying its way out. He clumsily grabs the empty glass he had discarded, but his hands shake with uncertainty. He places it back down onto the counter, staring blankly down at his disfigured reflection through the glass.

“Why do you even bother to stick around?” Iruka questions him, a hint of interest in his tone. “What do you gain from it? From being with him? All he’s ever done is upset you, _hurt you._ Sure, you’ve had nice moments before, but what good do those do? They don’t solve anything. The two of you only work to destroy each other—”

 _“I love him,”_ Kakashi grits through clenched teeth, but he immediately breaks into a fit of coughs, pieces of sediment spewing from his mouth and onto the ground. Aphids rustle at the disturbance. “I stay by his side because I _love_ him.”

 _“Love?”_ Iruka repeats with a scoff. “No, _you don’t._ You don’t actually know what love is. You’re just a little kid throwing some pretty words around. And what good will _love_ do for the two of you? What good _has_ it done for you?”

Kakashi’s eyes begin to tear up from the force of his coughs, and he desperately grabs for the glass again. He struggles to answer Iruka’s questions between his heaving breaths, unable to form coherent sentences, and Iruka only laughs. Kakashi feels a tear slide down his cheek, his face discolored from its fight for air.

“You let him get away with invading your privacy because you _love_ him. You stopped taking the one medication that actually _worked_ because you _love_ him. You started believing your own little lies about your relationship because you _love_ him. You’re letting yourself fall apart because you _love_ him.” Iruka lets out a dry laugh. _“Love?_ That’s isn’t _love._ That’s a _joke,_ and the punchline is that you still don’t get it. You still don’t _get him.”_ Iruka takes a step forward, slowly approaching the coughing male.

“L-Leave me… _leave me alone—”_ Kakashi manages between coughs, his hands shaking as he attempts to pour water into his cup. Small whimpers escape his lips when he notices the aphids drowning in what he has managed to pour, and he quickly grabs the glass and dumps its contents into the sink, watching as the insects swirled and drained repulsively. When he coughs, dirt falls into the mixture, stains of red phlegm accenting their descent.

“You can love him all you want, but that doesn’t mean he loves you,” Iruka tells him, tone pragmatic as he circles around Kakashi, standing only a feather’s width apart from his ear. “You’re too attached,” he breathes, and Kakashi flinches away. “You’re far too attached to someone who could care less about you _. It isn’t real,_ whatever you think he feels for you. You’re wasting your breath here, loving someone who would leave you in a heartbeat—”

Kakashi’s breath begins to thin as he continues to cough, his stomach constricting with pain and abuse as he doubles over, the glass in his hand falling to the kitchen floor and shattering. He falls to his hands and knees, a yelp of pain escaping his lips as a shard of glass embeds itself into his palm. Kakashi watches in horror as red begins to bloom around the intrusion, and he shuffles backwards from the broken glass in panic. His hands shake as he picks at the glass, removing the shard from his palm, only to find an aphid on its underside, bathed in the red of his own blood.

Kakashi’s muscles tense at the sight, dropping his hand instinctively as he scrambles back even more. He clutches his injured hand close to his chest, watching as little beads of red dripped from his cut, insect legs wiggling from within his skin. Tears begin to brim Kakashi’s eyes, and he squeezes them shut in an effort to will the images away.

 _“They’re everywhere,”_ he hears Iruka whisper beside his ear. “There’s even more of them now, thanks to him,” Iruka continues, and Kakashi whimpers as he shakes his head, unwilling to open his eyes. _“He’s draining you._ There won’t be anything left of you soon, but you can fix this. You can _stop_ this. All you have to do is _take them out.”_

Kakashi opens his eyes, and the sun seems to bathe the pieces of glass in a soft light. Carmine petals trail from the broken pieces, an alluring path that smells of roses.

 _“Take them out,”_ Iruka repeats as Kakashi’s eyes begin to blur in and out of focus. “Maybe then you’ll be stronger. Stronger for yourself. Strong enough to protect yourself from _him.”_ The shards shimmer like crystals. _“Take those parasites out before it’s too late.”_

-

Obito lies silently in bed, drawing smoke from his fourth cigarette, watching as the air around him dulled with every breath. The ceiling fan above him is still, blades coated in dust and grime from neglect. His caretaker had told him that the fan no longer spun for reasons unknown, but the lights still worked, so she gave him this pathetic excuse of a room for his temporary stay anyways.

Weeks have passed, and Obito has spent most of his time being thrown from one officer to the next for questioning. Questioning about his father, about his mother, about his sister, about their family and just _what the hell went wrong, how the hel_ _l_ could such a tragedy happen? The town had never seen _anything like it,_ they say, they all say as if it’ll help the problem, and the newspapers repeat that clichéd phrase over and over again, a constant hammer to the head of that humiliating day.

He lets out a deep sigh, stretching his legs out and grimacing when his feet dangle over the edge. This bed is too small for him, and Obito is sorely reminded of just how much he _doesn’t belong._ The foster home they had been temporarily thrown into consisted of mostly young children, many around Izumi’s age, but Obito had stuck out like a sore thumb. He didn’t belong. The children were afraid of him, quiet whenever he entered a room, hesitant to sit next to him during dinners. Obito had given up quickly, locking himself in his own room, only coming out when called.

Izumi’s situation wasn’t any better. She wore long clothes to cover her scars, but the bruise that had stained her cheek on the first morning at the home had left quite an impression on the other children. The younger ones always asked her where it came from. The older ones only looked at her in pity. She locks herself in her own room, much like him, only coming out when called.

They had both been taken away separately, questioned separately, their only time together wasted in this foster home of dusty walls and faded carpets. Obito had attempted to console her, but his knocks at her door are left unanswered despite their broken situation. She still does not let him in even after all of this time, _even after all of this pain._ Izumi remains cold to the touch, only turning away every time Obito even attempts to speak to her. She looks so weak, so weak and _broken._ And Obito couldn’t even do anything about it.

He had given up.

 _What was the point?_ He had already failed her one too many times. And Izumi had to suffer for his incompetence. He didn’t deserve to see her anyways. He was a pathetic excuse of a brother, and he already knew it.

He accepts it.

Obito inhales deeply, feeling the smoke circulate within his lungs. His body feels numb as he lies, knowing nothing of warmth, only aches and pains of uncomfortable positions, stiffened beds and flattened pillows. All he remembers are stern brows and deep voices, low and professional, unemotional, detached. _They don’t care about him._

Ashes crumble from the end of his cigarette and onto the bed sheets. Obito puts the cigarette out on the plastic plate beside him, leaving it to settle with the bare bones of the cold chicken he had eaten about an hour ago. He then closes his eyes, the taste of smoke lingering on his tongue when he hears a knock on his door.

A few seconds pass before the door opens, but Obito does not bother to look up. He hears a soft sigh, and the voice of his caretaker resounds through the still room. _“Your mother is here.”_ There’s another pause, as if she is waiting for Obito to respond, but when he doesn’t, she continues, “She’s downstairs, waiting for you. It’s time.”

His body seems to go numb.

Obito listens as the door shuts, and he lets out a deep sigh, pulling himself out of bed and cringing at the creaky floorboards beneath his feet. He catches sight of his duffel bag in the corner, frowning at the pile of unfolded clothes that he had carelessly packed after they had been notified that their mother had landed in the country last night. Dread begins to fill his system at the thought of that woman, the thought of seeing her again for the first time in _years._

While his father remains in critical condition, his mother had been called in to take temporary custody over Obito and Izumi in the meantime, at least until his father’s fate is finally decided. But Obito thought that it was pretty obvious. Even if his father somehow managed to live, he would be sentenced for life. There was no other way, Obito knew. They were to live with their mother from now on, and she was finally back.

He didn’t feel anything. Not joy. Not relief. Nothing.

He drags his duffel bag over, heaving it onto his bed and working on folding his clothes in an effort to buy more time. Obito does not want to see her. He truly does not want to see his mother again, even after all of this time. He wishes that she had never picked up the call, he wishes that she hadn’t sounded so ecstatic to hear his voice again, he wishes that she had truly disappeared. If she had never answered, if she had never returned, he wouldn’t feel like this.

He wouldn’t feel so _betrayed._

Obito hears the door open once more, and when he peers over, he’s surprised to find Izumi standing there. He pauses in his folding to turn around, watching as his sister holds her bag with two hands, avoiding his gaze. “Do you need something?” he asks her, and Izumi merely rubs at her nose.

“You shouldn’t be smoking in here,” she says instead of answering, and Obito turns back towards his clothes with a roll of his eyes. “The caretaker said it’s not allowed.”

Obito scoffs, folding his last shirt and tossing it into his bag. It’s the first real thing she’s said to him this entire week, and it’s a lecture about why he shouldn’t smoke. “We’re leaving anyways,” he utters, not bothering to hide his annoyance as he forcefully zips his duffel bag up and heaves it over his shoulder. “It’s not like it matters.” He heads towards the door, nodding his head to indicate that he is ready. “Let’s go.”

Izumi grabs his sleeve before he can leave, Obito pausing in his steps to stare down at her. Her eyes remain on her feet as she speaks, “I’m scared.” Her voice seems to linger, and her lashes quiver when she blinks.

Obito’s eyes soften ever so slightly. He wants to reassure her, to tell her that things will be alright, but words like that seem to feel emptier and emptier the more he says them. The reality of it all is that he _just doesn’t know_ how things will go. He doesn’t know if everything will be alright.

And he’s tired of pretending like they will.

Obito turns away, moving towards the staircase with dragging steps. “I am, too,” is all he can say, and he silently prays for a day in which they won’t have to feel that way anymore. They don’t speak as they descend. Their fear is mutual. Neither of them know what to expect ahead.

Waiting by the bottom of the steps stands the very woman that tore their family apart.

 _“Obito,”_ she breathes, a smile spreading across her lips as she turns to gaze at them in awe, _“Izumi.”_ The relief in her tone is almost unbearable to hear.

Obito halts on the last step, his grip on his bag tightening as he stares blankly back at his mother. She seems so familiar yet so far away. Her long hair is tied up in a tight ponytail, revealing her features that looks so similar to Izumi and even Obito, in a way. Her eyes are watery, lashes soft and blinking with passion, and her lips are curled, accentuated with gloss. She looks _young. Happy._ He knows it’s her, he knows that she is his mother.

But she isn’t at the same time.

“Oh, I’ve missed you guys so much—” she starts, moving to wrap her arms around Obito, but when he doesn’t move, she pauses. “Obito…” Her gaze is filled with sudden concern as she places her hands on Obito’s cheeks, fingers brushing through his hair like she had done so many times before when he was still just a kid. It feels so _familiar_ yet so _foreign_ at the same time. His mother’s touch…

It’s no longer comforting like it once was.

Obito is unable to take his eyes off of her face, and when she slowly drops her hands, uncertainty in her expression, the light catches the silver ring on her finger. He swallows thickly, his head beginning to ache, and he forces himself to look away, stepping aside. He leans back against the wall as Izumi looks up from her place behind him.

Her gaze is confused as she stares at her mother for the first time in years. It is then that Obito suddenly remembers that Izumi had barely been 6 years old at the time their mother had left. There was absolutely _no way_ Izumi could have remembered her face.

His eyes close as he laments the pitiful realization.

“…Mom?” Izumi whispers, but she stays in place. Obito breathes in sharply. He tries his best to keep his head, but it deeply throbs.

“Izumi,” their mother says, her voice filled with such _joy_ and _relief,_ and when Obito opens his eyes, he watches as she pulls Izumi into her arms. “My _beautiful_ baby girl, I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry this happened to you.” She holds Izumi’s face in her hands, rubbing her thumbs over the girl’s cheeks despite the frozen expression on her face. “If I could give _anything_ in the world to prevent those terrible things from happening to you, I _would.”_

Whatever is left of his control shatters, and Obito’s mind goes blank.

“You’re _sorry?”_ The words leave his mouth before he can stop them. “Who left us again?”

Their mother pauses, her hands falling from Izumi’s cheeks as she carefully turns to face Obito. “Obito,” she begins, but when Obito’s cold expression doesn’t change, she lowers her voice to a more delicate tone, “I am _truly_ sorry for what has happened to the two of you. If I was there, I _would_ have stopped him. You know I would have.”

“I _don’t_ know that,” Obito spits, his bag dropping to the ground with a loud thud. “And you _weren’t_ here. You haven’t been here for _six_ years now.” 

Her eyes seem to falter for just a moment. “I _couldn’t_ be here, Obito,” his mother says, a hand placed delicately over her heart, “and I’m sorry, but I’m here now—”

“You couldn’t be here. _Right._ And whose fault was that? _Who_ decided to pack her bags and take off over the fucking Pacific for six long years? _Who_ decided to abandon her children – with a man who _isn’t even their father_ – to chase some flowery dream? Fuck, _mom.”_ The word tastes bitter on his tongue. “You’re just as much of our mother as that _asshole_ was our father—”

“Don’t you dare compare me to _him,”_ she tells him, but her eyes are hurt. “I wouldn’t have hurt you two like he did, I wouldn’t have been so cruel.” 

“But you _left us with him!”_ Obito’s own eyes are sharp, and she flinches. “He wasn’t our father, yet you walked out on us anyways!” He lets out a bitter laugh. “You hurt us just as much as he did! Maybe not in the same way. But by _leaving_ us like that, by leaving us with him…you’re just as much to blame as him for this pain.”

“That isn’t _fair,_ Obito. You shouldn’t shout at me over such things—”

“Life isn’t ever fair, _mom.”_ Obito scoffs, feeling absolutely ridiculous for having to explain such a simple concept to his own mother. It just goes to show just how naïve she really is. “Izumi and I have suffered for so long, and you’re telling me that this isn’t _fair?_ That me shouting at you for _abandoning_ us isn’t _fair?”_

“What would you have me do, Obito?” she asks him, voice shaky as she attempts to stand tall, but he can see how his words are pulling her apart. “Go back in time? Stay with a man I didn’t love?”

“Why would you marry him if you didn’t love him?” Obito asks her in exasperation. “Why would you waste all of that time? Your time, his time, my time, Izumi’s time. All of those years wasted, and for _what?”_

“Marrying him was a mistake, I admit, but I couldn’t string him along any longer,” she tries to explain, her voice cracking with her words. “I didn’t want to leave, but I wasn’t _happy_ with him. I tried my best to be, but I just _couldn’t.”_

“You didn’t have to fucking marry him. You _really_ didn’t have to,” Obito tells her, his eyes filled with disgust. “You were already cheating on him. _Why_ would you go ahead and marry him anyways?”

“There was so much put into it, into the wedding, the preparations, I couldn’t—”

 _“Bullshit._ You just didn’t want to be seen as the cheater you really were,” Obito breathes. “Marrying him, pretending I was his. Just to save your name. It wasn’t worth _shit_ in the end.”

“I wasn’t happy with him!” his mother cries out again, and her own eyes begin to tear up as well. “I just…I just wasn’t happy!”

“That doesn’t mean you had the right to _cheat_ on the asshole!” Obito yells back, his breaths harsh and filled with disbelief. “And he treated you _well!_ He loved you more than anything else in the whole fucking world – why on _earth_ wouldn’t you be happy with him?”

His mother stares at him pathetically for a moment before her eyes fall to the ground, breaths shaky as she shakes her head in shame. “Because I fell in love with someone else.”

Obito scoffs, throwing his head back as he glares miserably at the ceiling. “You’re so unbelievably _selfish._ You ruined him. You ruined _all of us,_ just because you _loved someone else.”_

“It’s not like that, Obito,” she says, her voice pleading as she steps towards him. “You don’t know it yet, but to be in love…it can blind you. Shuffle your decisions. Love is a powerful thing—”

Obito steps away from her, eyes filled with disgust. She sounds so unbelievably foolish. So unbelievably _childish._ “I know what love is,” he utters.

His mother shakes her head, as if sorry for him, and the sight alone further sours Obito’s mood. “But to _be_ in love, that’s different.”

“I _am_ in love,” Obito grits, watching as his mother’s eyes widened in surprise. “So I know what the hell _love_ can do to you. But no matter how in love I am, I _still_ wouldn’t abandon my family to blindly pursue it. I wouldn’t lie or leave my family behind for my own selfish purposes.” When his mother does not say anything back, Obito lets out a scoff. _“Love,”_ he echoes emptily. “You didn’t love the asshole, I get it. But face it. You didn’t love _any_ of us.”

His mother lifts her head, eyes filled with shock. “I did love you – I _do_ love you and Izumi. Don’t you _dare_ doubt that—”

“You wouldn’t have left us with him if you did,” Obito snaps. “You didn’t want to take care of us. You were spoiled and naïve and too irresponsible, too _selfish_ to take care of your own children. You left us with the very man you yourself admitted you weren’t happy with. If you weren’t happy with him, how could you have expected _us_ to be?”

His mother looks as if she is on the verge of tears. “Obito—”

“You loved _yourself_ more than you loved any of us.”

“I’m your _mother,_ Obito,” she tries to deny, “I love the two of you more than _anything_ else in the entire world—”

Obito’s hands clench by his sides. “You love the two of us. The two children you had. The two children you had with other men. The two children who _needed_ you, and the two children _you left behind anyways!”_ Obito breathes out harshly. “That isn’t _love!_ A mother wouldn’t do that! A mother wouldn’t leave her children behind with a fucking _monster!”_

His voice echoes throughout the house, and Obito becomes painfully aware of the fact that they aren’t alone. Izumi looks absolutely horrified, the girl covering her face with her hands as she stares from Obito to their mother from between her fingers. Obito can practically feel the presence of all of the other children in the house, their caretakers, and he knows that _everyone_ could hear them. Everyone was witnessing this horrible fight.

Before anything else can be said, another voice is heard, calling out his mother’s name.

His mother’s eyes seem to waver, and she quickly tears her gaze away from Obito to instead glance back at the opened front door. “Yes?” she shakily calls back out.

“I heard shouting, is everything alright?” The door opens wider. “What’s taking so long—” A man steps into the house, eyes slightly wide as he takes in the scene before him. Realization seems to dawn in his features, and when he meets eyes with Obito, the world seems to go still.

Obito’s heart nearly stops beating in his chest as he stares back at the stranger, stunned.

His skin, his brows, his lips, his jawline, his stature, his posture, his eyes.

Obito knew it was _him,_ just like how he knew _she_ was his mother.

“Don’t come in,” his mother breathes, quickly heading towards the door and gently ushering him out with a hand to his chest. “Now isn’t the right time—”

But she’s too late. Obito already knows, and his heart fills with ice. “That’s _him_ isn’t it?” he voices, watching as his mother freezes with the words. Moments pass in silence, the tension in the room so high it’s suffocating. He swallows, and when the man meets his eyes once more, there is no doubt about it. _“My real father.”_ Obito lets out a harsh, bitter laugh that echoes throughout the dusty home. “Unbelievable,” is all he can say, defeat defining his slouch as he grabs his duffel bag from the floor. “Un- _fucking_ -believable.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Obito had something akin to a panic attack. Unfortunately it happened at the most unideal of times.


	15. Chapter 15

It’s the first day of school.

And Kakashi isn’t ready for it.

His heart begins to beat erratically in his chest as he gazes at the high school before him, the prospect of surviving another year suddenly seeming so wide, so _impossible._ It feels as if summer had passed in the blink of an eye, the break doing nothing to truly relieve Kakashi of the scars he still possessed from the previous year.

Other students begin to gather on campus, groups forming and greeting one another with large smiles on their faces. Talking, laughing, hugging, shouting. Kakashi feels so terribly out of place, so terribly alone. He knows that no one actually notices him there, yet he feels so exposed and isolated.

_You don’t belong here._

Kakashi takes a deep breath, walking quietly through the crowds of students, keeping his head down as to not catch any attention. It’s a new year, he tries to remind himself. A new year means new beginnings. A new year means new chances. His fingers grasp onto the straps of his bag as he walks through the front, but his anxiety begins to eat away at his insides despite his desperate reminders. The true fear of having to face an entire year alone climbs into his mind. 

_I can’t do this._

Kakashi’s breath feels thin as he fumbles for his phone, intending to call his uncle back and leave before things can go wrong. He can’t do this, he really can’t. Not alone, not now, not for an entire year—

_“Isn’t that him?”_

Kakashi pauses, the sound of the girls’ gossip catching his ears and stilling his movements.

“He looks so… _tired.”_ Kakashi looks up, turning to look at the group of girls not too far away from him.

“Wouldn’t you be? He must be so _devastated_ after what happened with his father and his sister—”

Kakashi moves around the group of girls, peering over their heads to find the person he needs to see most. It’s been close to a month since he’s last heard from Obito, and if Obito was here…if he was actually here now…maybe he wouldn’t have to face the new year alone…

Kakashi’s breath hitches in his throat when he catches sight of Obito, his boyfriend’s eyes strained with fatigue as he walks across the courtyard. Relief fills Kakashi’s system at the sight of him alone, the emptiness he had felt for weeks switching into a deep desire to be near his boyfriend once more. He does not think as he rushes towards Obito, throwing his arms around his shoulders and pulling him into a clinging hug.

 _“Obito,”_ Kakashi whispers, burying his face into his boyfriend’s neck, his heart slowly settling in his chest at the comfort of finally being in Obito’s presence again. His fingers gently settle in Obito’s hair, brushing through the soft strands as he expresses his relief. “I’ve missed you so much,” he says, and his voice is filled with such yearning that Kakashi is almost surprised at how true the statement is.

Time passes silently with Kakashi simply holding on to Obito, and it takes Kakashi a few moments to realize that _Obito is not responding._ Kakashi pauses, and he finally realizes just how _stiff_ Obito is, how cold he really _feels._ He opens his eyes, a confused call of his boyfriend’s name escaping his lips as Kakashi moves to look at him. But before he can pull away, Obito’s arms finally come up, securing Kakashi in place, a hand on the back of his head, preventing Kakashi from seeing his face. 

Kakashi frowns in confusion, attempting to pull away once more, but Obito does not let him. “Obito?” Kakashi says again, and when he looks around, he meets eyes with all of the other students on the courtyard, groups of them gazing at them curiously. They look away upon meeting his stare, but discomfort starts to stir Kakashi’s heart, and he finally gathers enough strength to gently push Obito away, just enough to see his face. Kakashi’s breath hitches when he sees the deep crease between Obito’s brows, the emptiness in his once warm eyes.

It is then that Kakashi becomes painfully aware of the amount of eyes on them, and he’s just about to pull away completely when he feels Obito’s fingers on his chin. Kakashi finds that he suddenly cannot move as Obito tilts his chin up, mesmerized by his enigmatic eyes, and he does not protest when Obito draws their lips together in a soft kiss.

He can feel thousands of eyes on him, burning his back, so Kakashi closes his own, attempting to push them out in favor of returning his boyfriend’s kiss instead, but it doesn’t feel the same. _Obito_ doesn’t feel the same. He’s different, somehow, and Kakashi isn’t sure how to approach him. Obito pulls away abruptly, and Kakashi knows that his boyfriend can sense his uncertainty, Obito’s eyes unreadable as he stares directly into Kakashi’s own.

Kakashi swallows, forcing himself to look away. He looks for something to say, _anything_ to relieve the tension, but his heart skips a beat when he feels Obito’s lips by his ear. “Let’s get out of here,” Obito whispers against Kakashi’s skin, sending shivers down his spine, and he’s reminded of the day on the field, the night, and how running away had helped Kakashi back then. But it only got him so far. It was only temporary.

They couldn’t run away, _not this time,_ because something told Kakashi that if he let him run today, Obito would never truly return.

Kakashi swallows down the temptations, but he decides to maintain his resolve. “We can’t,” he answers softly, and he tries to find a reason, _any_ reason that won’t reveal his distrust. “It’s the first day, Obito. Are you trying to start a record already?” he tries to joke, but Obito barely smiles back.

“I’ve done it before,” is Obito's response, and his eyes are almost _challenging._

Kakashi stares back, surprised by his boyfriend’s defiance, and Iruka’s words seem to whisper in his ear. He pulls away, willing his voice to remain strong as he speaks. “But I don’t want to. Not this time.” He can hear Iruka’s laughter.

Obito stares at Kakashi for a bit longer before his gaze falls to the ground, his expression unreadable. He gives one nod before grabbing Kakashi’s hand, pulling him towards the school without another word. The action itself startles Kakashi, but he cannot find his words as he allows Obito to take him away.

Their steps are heavy, and Obito’s grip on his hand is a little too tight.

 _“They’re still together,”_ Kakashi hears from his right, and he catches a brief glance of the girls from before.

“Do you think they’ll last? With Obito like that?”

“With _Obito?_ What about _Kakashi?”_

“Yeah, he isn’t exactly…stable himself.”

Kakashi’s skin begins to crawl, and he knows that Obito can hear them, too.

“There’s no way they’ll last. Kakashi’s always one step away from losing it. And it seems like Obito is beginning to lose it, too.”

“They aren’t good for each other.”

“I give them another year.”

“A _year?”_ A laugh. “I give them a _month.”_

Kakashi’s breaths thin, and suddenly the feeling of Obito’s hand in his begins to burn.

-

The whispers followed them everywhere they went.

They are in gym together, and Kakashi can tell that they aren’t only affecting him, but Obito as well. His boyfriend is tense, the veins on his hands constricting with every clench of his fingers.

Class consists of jogging around the track, Kakashi watching Obito carefully from behind as they run, observing his tense shoulders, his heavy steps. Their teacher blows a whistle as they pass, relieving them of the run, and Kakashi slowly comes to a stop, eyes never leaving Obito’s form. Obito runs a few more meters forward, only coming to a stop when his feet hit the grass, wiping his face with the hem of his shirt.

Kakashi feels sweat trail down his own neck, and his fingers trace the sleeves of his jacket almost timidly. He swallows, his throat feeling dry as he zips up his jacket just a bit further. He ignores the heat around his chest and quietly trails after his brooding boyfriend. Kakashi’s hands slip into his pockets as he stands behind Obito, the older male distractedly wiping at the sweat on his forehead. Obito glances over his shoulder, eyeing Kakashi’s appearance before turning away once more.

“Aren’t you hot?” Obito asks him, crouching down to retie his shoes.

Kakashi licks his lips, kicking a pebble by his feet away. “I’m fine.” He clasps his hands behind his back, keeping a respectful distance between Obito and himself as his boyfriend begins to walk off. “It’s a little chilly today anyways.”

“Yeah, but we just ran,” Obito murmurs over his shoulder. “You should take that off.”

Kakashi does not respond, only following after Obito quietly. He doesn’t know what to do or say, so he’s left with nothing else to do but watch Obito as they walk, noticing the slight clench in his jaw and the strain in his biceps. A soft sigh escapes Kakashi’s lips as he quickens his pace to catch up, only to stop when he hears more whispers.

 _“I can’t believe how terrible his father was,”_ a girl whispers to her friend, the two sitting in the grass just off of the track. “Doing a thing like that to his own daughter.”

“Did you forget?” her friend whispers back. “They weren’t actually his children. That’s probably the only reason he could be so heartless.”

“Still…poor girl. I can’t even imagine how she must be feeling right now.”

Kakashi bites down on his lip, glancing back up in time to see Obito settle himself on the bleachers not too far away. He quickly heads over, taking a seat next to the other male, unconsciously biting his nails as the girls’ words ring through his head. 

He wants to ask Obito about the incident, but the tense aura his boyfriend has been carrying throughout the day has made Kakashi too afraid to try. Every conversation he’s had with Obito has been cut short by the latter’s refusal to speak more than a few words at a time, and it was frustrating. This year, they have far more classes together, but it feels as if Obito has no interest in speaking to Kakashi or even being _around_ him. For once, talking to Obito felt more nerve-wracking than it should have been. Kakashi felt as if he had to choose each of his words far more carefully.

“Can you come over after school?” Kakashi asks him, knowing that if he was ever going to ask Obito about the incident, it certainly wouldn’t be at school, not with all of these other ears that were bound to be listening. Maybe Obito didn’t want to talk because they were in such a public place. Maybe behind closed doors, he’d be like he’s always been. Kakashi can only cross his fingers and hope.

Obito does not turn to look at him. “Any reason why?” He sounds disinterested. 

Kakashi blinks, surprised with the question. Obito normally just agreed whenever Kakashi invited him over. He’s never really had to express a reason before. Kakashi fidgets awkwardly, unsure of what he can and can’t say. “Because…I missed you,” he says slowly, and Obito snorts, almost in disbelief.

“I’ll run it by my mom,” Obito answers after a moment of consideration, and when Kakashi looks at him, his eyes are distant.

“Your mom?” Kakashi repeats in surprise, but when Obito makes no signs of explaining himself further, he bites his tongue. Kakashi stares at Obito for a little bit longer, hoping he’ll give in, but when Obito still does not move, it is Kakashi who gives up instead. He lets out a disappointed sigh, crossing one leg over the other and propping his arm on his knee in defeat.

The few stragglers still on the track begin to finish their last lap, groups of students gasping for breath and letting out little cheers of victory. They scatter around them, occupying various spaces around the field, and Kakashi begins to grow uncomfortable as the sounds of their voices begin to carry throughout the air.

Minutes go by in silence, neither Obito nor Kakashi willing to speak as they sit. Kakashi finds it difficult to think, too many conversations going on around him at once, and with Obito not even attempting to speak to him, Kakashi isn’t sure where to turn to. He begins to chew on his nails again, concentrating on settling his heartbeat to a steady rhythm. Kakashi doesn’t quite understand why Obito is being so… _distant_ today, and he isn’t really sure how he can ask. It feels as if there’s a wall between them, and Kakashi doesn’t like it at all.

Tired of merely sitting there, Kakashi opens his mouth to speak once more, only to swallow his words when he hears a particularly _loud_ voice behind the bleachers. “You know how that Uchiha Obito guy’s father got shot?”

“Yeah,” another voice answers plainly. “Right through the chest, too, right?” Kakashi’s fingers clench ever so slightly.

“That’s what I heard,” the original voice says. “I think he’s in the hospital, but I doubt he’ll live.”

“It’s not like it’ll matter if he lives or not, he is probably going to spend the rest of his miserable life in prison.”

A laugh. “You know, I heard that it was Uchiha Obito who shot his dad.”

Kakashi’s eyes widen in disbelief, and he turns to look at Obito, but his boyfriend’s expression is blank, void of any particular emotion. Kakashi bites his lip when he sees the muscles on Obito’s arms tense, a bad feeling beginning to stir in his gut at the sight alone. “Obito—” he softly calls out, only for his voice to fade when the two boys behind the bleachers continue.

“Really? You’re shitting me!”

“Nope. Just shot him clean through the chest. Right in front of his sister, too.”

“In front of his _sister?_ Way to scar her for _life,_ man.”

Kakashi feels himself tense up, and he scoots closer to Obito, placing a hand on his knee in an attempt to calm his boyfriend down. Though Obito does not visibly show it, Kakashi knows that his temper is beginning to rise simply by the way his eyes seem to darken. “Obito, let’s go somewhere else,” he tries, but Obito still does not move.

“I _know_ right?” one of the two students continues. “I get that his father was a fucking monster, but…that’s still fucked up.”

“Maybe he had no other choice,” the other says. “But damn, that’s scary. I wonder if his sister’s okay.”

“I heard their father was selling her body or something.”

“Wow, what an absolute bastard.”

“Obito, please…” Kakashi tries again, only to trail off when he realizes that Obito is no longer by his side. He glances around in alarm, eyes jumping from one group of students to the other until he finally spots his boyfriend at the bottom of the bleachers.

Obito’s eyes are shadowed, and his fists clench white by his sides. Kakashi recognizes that look, and he immediately runs after him. “Obito!” Kakashi’s worry grows as he chases after the other male, watching as Obito ducks under the bleachers, his path clear as he heads towards the two unknowing students who are still engaged in a conversation they had no business with in the first place.

“Did you see him this morning? He looked so…scary.”

“Well, he practically murdered his own father, so...he’s got the look of a killer.”

“Fuck, man. Obito’s always been a violent bastard anyways.”

“Yeah. I guess we should have seen something like this coming. What a broken fucking family.”

Another laugh, and Kakashi grits his teeth as he runs after Obito, the other two students still completely unaware of their approaching presence.

“I heard his mother’s back in town, too.”

“Shit, really? Wasn’t she some sort of whore?”

“Yeah. I think she’s taking care of Obito and his sister until further notice or some shit.”

“Damn. She better be careful unless she wants Obito to come after her ass, too—”

 _“Obito!”_ Kakashi screams, but he’s too late. Obito is already grabbing one of the gossiping students by the collar, _Torune,_ Kakashi randomly recognizes, swinging his fist forward and sending the kid flying into a nearby pole. Torune’s back collides against the hard metal surface of the pole with a clang that echoes throughout the bleachers’ structure. Kakashi lets out a gasp, quickly running towards the scene as Obito drags the unfortunate student to the ground, pinning him down as he lets out yelps of pain.

“Get the fuck off of him!” Torune’s friend shouts, but when he meets eyes with Kakashi, his own grow in fear. _“Shit,_ it’s the schizo,” he blurts out before he can stop himself, and he immediately clasps his hands around his mouth in regret. “Fuck, Torune, I’ll get a teacher—” He cuts himself off when Obito suddenly grabs Torune and shoves him towards his friend, the latter unable to catch Torune’s weight and falling to the ground with him.

Kakashi snaps out of his daze and grabs Obito’s arm, only to be pushed away thoughtlessly by the older male. “Stop it, Obito!” Kakashi yells, reaching forward again, but Obito moves to pull Torune up, pushing him against a wall and throwing another fist at his face. Kakashi’s eyes widen in horror as Obito continues to swing, over and over, painting his skin purple, lips swollen and nose dripping with red. _“Stop!”_ Kakashi grasps Obito’s upper arm more forcefully, pulling him off of Torune’s form for just a moment. “You fucking idiot, you’re going to get expelled!”

Obito’s eyes are dark. _“Stay out of this,”_ he spits, shoving Kakashi off without so much as a glance before turning back around to deal with Torune. Kakashi stumbles back onto the ground with a gasp, unable to hide the shock on his face as Obito continues his relentless assault on Torune.

Kakashi’s fingers dig into the grass beneath him, a lump forming in his throat. Just as he’s about to get up again, an arm blocks his way. His eyes widen when he sees Iruka crouch down beside him, a single finger pressed against his lips.

“You won’t be able to stop him,” Iruka whispers, and Kakashi flinches away. “He’s _dangerous._ You should get out of here while you still can.”

“I’m not leaving him,” Kakashi breathes out shakily, and he grimaces when Torune lets out a painful scream. “I’m…I’m not leaving…”

“Don’t you see? _He’s not the same,”_ Iruka hisses, and when he reaches out to pull Kakashi up, Kakashi only moves away. “He’s already changing. He’s already treating you like you’re nothing—”

“Uchiha Obito! Take your hands off of him this instant!” Kakashi hears, and he looks up in bewilderment as their teacher runs over, Torune’s friend standing a safe distance away. The man grabs Obito by his arms, successfully prying him off of the other student, Torune collapsing almost lifelessly on the ground by the wall. Obito trashes against the teacher’s hold with enough strength to break free for just a few moments, enough time for him to spit at Torune’s motionless body.

“If I ever hear you talk about my fucking family ever again, I’ll bash your face in so hard your own mother won’t be able to recognize you,” Obito growls. Their teacher moves to grab him again, but Obito shoves him away. “Get the fuck off of me,” he utters as he begins to walk away, his fists stained red from the assault.

Kakashi watches him leave pathetically, too stunned to get up from the ground. Obito never looks back, not even for him, and Kakashi’s heart clenches painfully in his chest as Iruka’s words fill his head.

-

_“He’s going to hurt you.”_

Kakashi gets off of the bus without a word, his grasp on the straps of his backpack tightening as he heads towards the shop.

“You saw how he treated you. He threw you aside like you were _nothing.”_

Kakashi forces the door to the shop open, the little ring of the bell serving only to sour his mood even more. He does not say anything when his uncle calls out to him, does not _hear_ anything the man tells him as he immediately heads for the backdoor.

“All you did was follow him around like some sort of little _dog_ on a leash. It was absolutely _pathetic.”_

Kakashi huffs as he storms up the steps towards the apartment, the hairs on the back of his neck standing up uncomfortably as Iruka follows closely behind.

“There’s a difference between being there for someone and being his clingy _bitch.”_

“Shut up,” Kakashi mutters beneath his breath as he unlocks the door to the apartment, stepping inside and slamming the door shut.

“He’s made you weak. He’s turned you into a worthless mess, and you just keep running back to him.”

Kakashi lets out a growl, but when he turns around, Iruka isn’t there. His eyes waver in confusion.

“He’s not good for you,” he hears, and Kakashi turns back around, glaring at the taunting hallucination. “You heard them all today. Even they know it. You and him? You two were never going to last. It was a flightless dream, and it’s time to wake up.”

_“Stop it.”_

“You have to leave him,” Iruka insists despite the aggravated groan Kakashi releases. “You _have_ to, that is if you want to have any chance of ever becoming yourself again.”

“I _am_ myself,” Kakashi says through gritted teeth, but his head spikes with pain as he heads for his bedroom. “I’m not leaving him.”

“He’s going to hurt you, Kakashi. He’s going to hurt you and you already know it, but you’re just going to _let_ him?” Iruka almost sounds disappointed. “You really are just a hopeless—”

He couldn’t take it anymore. _“Get out of my head!”_ Kakashi practically screams as he shoves the door to his bedroom open. He throws his bag to the corner thoughtlessly, but his heart nearly stops in his chest when he sees a figure sitting on his bed. “Obito?” he breathes in surprise, watching as his boyfriend raises an intrigued eyebrow at him.

“You don’t have to yell,” Obito slowly says as he slips out of Kakashi’s bed, hands shoved in the pockets of his jeans. Kakashi is confused for a moment until he realizes that Obito must have misheard him, and relief fills his system for just a second until anger floods it all at once. He can still hear Iruka in the back of his mind, and he feels as if he’s being pushed to the edge.

“How did you get in here?” Kakashi demands, crossing his arms protectively over his chest. Iruka shouts at him to throw Obito out. “And _why_ are you here?”

“Your uncle let me in,” Obito answers, and he begins walking towards Kakashi. Kakashi subconsciously takes a step back. “And you invited me over, remember?”

Kakashi’s eyes falter for a moment, the memory of his own words throwing his thoughts off as Obito continues forward, enough until Kakashi’s back hits the wall. Obito slowly places his hands on either side of Kakashi’s head, fixing him with an intense stare. It’s unnerving, being so close to Obito, but Kakashi refuses to look away, gazing back with just as much as force. Iruka scoffs at his resolve.

Obito licks his lips, and his eyes seem to cloud. “I thought you missed me,” he utters, voice deeper than usual, _distracted,_ and Kakashi can feel his heart constrict in warning in his chest.

He lets out a shaky breath, and Iruka yells at him to push Obito away. “I wanted to talk to you,” Kakashi says with the steadiest tone he can manage.

Obito stares at Kakashi for a moment longer before releasing a low hum. “We can talk later,” he rasps, and he leans in abruptly, forcing his lips roughly onto Kakashi’s.

Kakashi immediately tenses up, and Iruka mocks him. Kakashi gathers all of his strength as Iruka whispers his poison over and over again, and he pushes Obito away. “I said I wanted to _talk_ to you, Obito. Not _this.”_ Iruka only laughs.

“I said we could talk later, didn’t I?” Obito spits back, irritation evident in his voice as he steps towards Kakashi again. “Don’t be like this—”

 _“He doesn’t respect you,”_ Iruka hisses in his ear.

“There is no _later._ I want to talk to you _now,”_ Kakashi insists, his glare hardening as Obito stands stiffly in place. “You almost got yourself _expelled_ today, and I want to talk about it!”

Obito lets out an annoyed scoff, turning away from Kakashi and running his hands through his hair. “Not _you,_ too,” he utters, and Kakashi frowns in mild confusion. “What’s the big deal? I didn’t get expelled. Or suspended. There’s nothing for us to talk about.”

 _“What’s the big deal?_ Are you really asking me that?” Kakashi gives him a look of exasperation. “You promised we’d graduate together, but you’re already starting to break it!”

“I _didn’t_ get expelled. It doesn’t matter.” Obito crosses his arms over his chest, and when Kakashi glares at him, he looks away.

“What is going on with you, Obito?” Kakashi demands, tired of sitting on his ass and waiting for answers he’s clearly never going to get without force. “You’ve been acting strange all day.”

“There’s nothing _going on with me,”_ Obito answers stubbornly.

“There clearly is!”

“Read the damn papers, then, they seem to know _all_ about what’s going on with me,” Obito spits. “Jesus fuck, if I knew you were going to interrogate me like this, I wouldn’t have shown up at all.”

 _“He’s pushing you away,”_ Iruka lilts, amusement in his tone as Kakashi’s skin begins to heat up.

 _“Stop that!”_ Kakashi suddenly shouts, and Obito stares blankly back at him. _“Stop pushing me away!”_

Obito frowns, denial in his eyes. “I’m not pushing you away—”

“Yes, you are!” Kakashi frowns, stepping forward and forcing Obito to look him in the eyes. “You disappeared for almost an entire _month,_ never _once_ bothered to contact me, showed up on the first day of school and barely said a fucking _word_ to me, and then you go ahead and get yourself into a stupid fight—”

“It wasn’t _stupid,_ Torune was talking about my—”

“It _was_ stupid, you nearly got expelled!”

Obito rolls his eyes, and Kakashi feels his temple throb at the sight. Obito then lets out a scoff, turning to head towards the door. “Forget it. I’m leaving—”

 _“You’re nothing to him,”_ Iruka states, and Kakashi feels his muscles tense up.

Kakashi grabs Obito’s wrist before he can get away. “No, you’re not leaving. You’re not leaving until we _talk about this.”_

Obito gives him a look of exasperation. “There’s nothing to talk about, Kakashi—”

“You’re pushing me away _again,”_ Kakashi grits before letting go of Obito’s wrist and giving him a cold stare. But as Obito looks back, eyes equally cold, Kakashi begins to lose his words. “I’m…I’m here for you, but y-you keep… _throwing me aside_ like I’m _nothing,”_ Kakashi hears Iruka’s voice as he speaks, and his nails dig painfully into his palms as he clenches his fists. “I…I’m your boyfriend and I love you, I want to be there for you, but you…you’re making it so hard…” When he looks up, Iruka stands silently in the mirror behind Obito, and Kakashi lets out a shaky breath.

Obito does not say anything, his expression unreadable as he stares down at Kakashi. “Fine,” he utters darkly, and Kakashi looks up in surprise. “You want to talk? _I’ll fucking talk.”_ Obito suddenly slams his bedroom door shut, the loud and abrupt noise stunning Kakashi into silence. “This past month has been a living _hell_ for me. My father’s practically dead, my sister was abused for _months,_ she has _anxiety_ and _depression_ and god knows _what fucking else_ thanks to that asshole, I can’t go a day without an officer or news reporter trying to contact me about this nightmare of a case, my stupid mother’s back with the _bitch_ she abandoned us for, and the _entire fucking town_ thinks they know everything about me and my pathetic excuse of a family!” Kakashi swallows nervously as Obito fixes him with an icy glare. “So I’m _sorry_ that I didn’t want to talk. _Sorry_ that I’m sick and tired of talking about that god damn case with every fucking person I see. And I’m so fucking sorry that you had to fall in love with the town’s biggest fucking _joke.”_ Obito lets out a harsh breath before turning and slamming his fist against the wall, a raw shout of frustration escaping his throat.

Kakashi stares dumbly at Obito’s back, lips parted in shock as Obito’s heavy breaths filled the room. He doesn’t know what to do, he doesn’t know what to say, and Iruka whispers into his ear, telling him they’re _lies,_ more _lies_ to keep him on a leash. “Obito,” he tries to say, mostly in an attempt to differentiate between the truth and the lies, but Obito immediately cuts him off.

“I’m so fucking sick of it,” Obito breathes, but he still does not face Kakashi, his fingers spreading across the wall, clutching the surface almost desperately. “I’m so fucking sick of it all. Of this town, of all of these people thinking they know everything about me. Everything about my family. Everything about _everyone.”_

Kakashi swallows, and he feels as if he cannot move. Iruka continues to speak in the back of his mind, but Kakashi forces himself to focus on Obito, his attention drifting in and between his own thoughts and Obito’s words. He places a hand over his own arm tenderly, fingers brushing against his sleeve, and the bit of pain he feels reels him back into reality. He blinks, and Obito’s back stands before him.

“Everywhere I fucking turn, it’s another fucking person talking about that asshole, talking about me, talking about _Izumi,”_ Obito seethes, torment from days of living a nightmare clear in his tone. “And I can’t do anything about it. I can’t do anything about it but listen to them talk, listen to them make up these disgusting stories about us, and the greatest fucking joke of it all is that I _can’t even deny them._ I can’t pretend like I’m above these stories, like I’m anything better than what they think I am. Because they’re right. They’re all fucking right.” Obito lets out a bitter laugh. “I really am just a _violent bastard._ An _idiot._ I failed my sister. I couldn’t protect her, not even in her own home. Her life is ruined because I was too slow, too stupid to realize what was right in front of me. And if I had known what that asshole had been doing to her this entire time, _I really would have killed him.”_ Obito’s back tenses as he lets out a shaky breath. “I really fucking would, just like everyone thinks I did. I’m exactly what everyone in this shitty town thinks I am. I _really_ wish I could tell them all that they’re wrong, that _I’m not like that._ But I am. _I really fucking am.”_

Kakashi stares at Obito, heartbroken at the defeat in his tone. He shakes his head and does not bother to think, immediately walking up to his boyfriend’s back and wrapping his arms tightly across his waist. He rests his head against Obito’s shoulder, closing his eyes and feeling the deep movements of his breaths. “You aren’t like that, Obito,” Kakashi whispers, his heart stretching painfully in his chest as Obito’s words played over and over again in his mind. “You’re so much more than what everyone says. You aren’t violent or a failure. You can’t let their words get to you—”

“But I’m so sick of pretending like they don’t affect me,” Obito says, and he sounds so _broken._ “Of hearing them and pretending like I couldn’t give less of a shit about what they have to think about me. It’s so hard, _so fucking hard_ when everywhere you turn, it’s the same stupid shit. _Uchiha Obito,_ a bastard with a broken home and no future in sight. _Uchiha Obito_ , who was stupid enough to think his father was at least above what he feared most. _Uchiha Obito_ , who constantly fails each and every day to protect the ones he loves.” Obito’s hand slips from the wall, falling over Kakashi’s, gently intertwining their fingers.

“You’ve never failed me,” Kakashi whispers after a moment, and though a voice continues to scream its doubt inside his head, he pushes forward anyways. “Never.” Things are silent, and Kakashi’s heart stutters in his chest. “I love you,” he breathes, because he does not know what else to say, and it was the only thing that felt _right._

Obito seems to pause for a moment before he suddenly turns around, his expression bittersweet. “I love you, too, Kakashi,” he softly says as he reaches up to carefully cup Kakashi’s cheeks, his touch tender but sorrowful at the same time. “And…I’m sorry if I’ve ever made you feel like I didn’t.” Kakashi looks down. “It’s just…it’s just that I really have nothing left,” Obito continues, his voice cracking with his words, and Kakashi glances back up to gently hush his trembles. Obito’s smile is so strained, so sad and _abandoned,_ and it breaks Kakashi’s heart. “It just feels like the entire _world_ has left me behind,” Obito finishes, and Kakashi is taken back to that day on the roof so long ago. It was a different time, a different place, though the sentiment is still the same. But the circumstances, too, have changed.

Kakashi swallows, and he places his hands over Obito’s. “But I’m here,” he says, and he leans in close enough to feel Obito’s breath against his lips. “And I’ll never leave you behind.”

It’s a promise that fills one heart with comfort and the other with pain.

-

On some days, Kakashi’s nerves can’t seem to catch a break. He wipes his sweaty palms on his apron, becoming increasingly aware of the feeling of his sleeves sticking to his skin. Kakashi feels as if he’s being watched from around all corners, an otherworldly experience that reminds him of his nightmares. A part of him wonders if he’s about to wake up.

His fingers brush together as he searches for a distraction around the shop. A young couple sits at a table in the corner, sharing a cup of frozen yogurt as they speak to each other in hushed voices. The girl’s gaze shifts onto him, and she gives him a polite smile before focusing her attention back onto her boyfriend. Kakashi blinks away sheepishly, realizing that he had been staring at the two of them a little too intensely, and he swipes at the moisture on his palms in an attempt to expel that dirty feeling of being watched. The shop door suddenly opens, the little jingle of the bell notifying Kakashi of a new customer’s arrival.

Kakashi watches in quiet surprise as Genma walks in, a cap on his head pulled low enough to shadow his eyes. Genma glances over at Kakashi with a feigned look of disinterest before stepping up to the counter.

“Obito isn’t here?” is Genma’s greeting as he taps his fingers against the ledge of the countertop.

Kakashi listens to the sound of Genma’s drumming fingers for a moment before answering, “My uncle is giving him some time off to recover from…everything.” He chews on his bottom lip, feeling massively awkward under Genma’s scrutinizing gaze. Kakashi can’t help but feel a bit suspicious of the sudden visit. “What are you doing here?”

“Maybe I wanted some frozen yogurt,” Genma says petulantly, and his hand reaches into the pocket of his baggy hoodie, shuffling around as if grabbing something. Kakashi eyes him curiously. “I have something Obito asked me for, but the idiot didn’t tell me where he lives, so I can’t exactly give it to him.” He gives Kakashi a once over. “Do you know where he lives now?”

Kakashi shakes his head, somewhat in shame, disappointment crossing Genma’s features. “He doesn’t seem to want anyone to know…” he softly admits, a plaintive look in his eyes.

“He doesn’t even have the decency to tell his own boyfriend where he’s moved to?” Genma scoffs, but he finally pulls a brown paper bag out of his pocket and tosses it over to Kakashi, who fumbles to catch it. “Whatever. Give this to Obito the next time you see him, then.”

Kakashi frowns, a bit annoyed with having to play delivery boy. “Why couldn’t you just give this to him on Monday?” he asks as he peers into the bag, only to blink blankly at the contents. Inside sits a small bag of weed. “Oh.”

 _“Oh,”_ Genma repeats in amusement, a small smile on his face. “That’s about an eighth. I felt bad for him, so I decided to give him more than the usual gram.”

Kakashi slips the bag under the counter, cheeks flushed in slight embarrassment. “How generous,” he says plainly.

“Try not to smoke any without him,” Genma comments flatly, and Kakashi immediately shushes him.

“Not so loud! There are customers,” Kakashi hisses, and Genma gives him an unapologetic shrug. “And I quit.”

Genma’s mouth drops open in intrigue. “You _quit?”_ he echoes with a small snort, almost as if he couldn’t believe his ears. Kakashi finds his reaction absurd, since they really didn’t know each other that much anyways. As if Genma had any right to judge his decisions. “What a _saint.”_ Kakashi rolls his eyes. “Why?”

“It…” Kakashi hesitates, feeling as if even the customers in the corner were listening in, “it interferes with the medications,” he answers slowly, averting his gaze.

Genma stares blankly at Kakashi for what feels like an eternity, and for a moment, Kakashi is afraid that his lie has been caught. Before he can say anymore in an attempt to cover himself, Genma asks, “How’s that going for you?”

Kakashi gazes back at Genma in surprise. “Why…do you care?” He doesn’t mean to sound so aloof, but Kakashi isn’t completely comfortable around Genma and being asked such a personal question feels strange. He isn’t used to people other than Obito or Nagato or his uncle and brother caring about him past the cruel rumors. 

“I’m just concerned,” Genma replies, eyes oddly sincere. Kakashi blinks in surprise, but before he can express it, Genma waves him off and says, “Okay, I’m actually just making conversation because I took the time to drive all the way over here, so I might as well kill some _more_ time to make myself feel like the drive was worth it.”

Kakashi’s brow quirks in slight irritation, a scoff escaping his throat at the superficiality, but he accepts the answer anyways. “They work,” he finally says, though he can’t quite meet Genma’s eyes. If Genma notices, he doesn’t comment on it.

Genma lowly hums. “I figured. Obito didn’t really mention you having any freak outs over the summer,” he says reflectively, almost as if Kakashi isn’t right there. He regards Kakashi’s scandalized look with interest. “What?”

“Does he just tell you everything about me now?” Kakashi remarks, a bit annoyed, but he supposes that Obito can’t help it. Though that doesn’t change the fact that he’s slightly uncomfortable with Genma’s somewhat omnipotent presence in his life. Kakashi has to deal with enough of those already.

“No, not _everything,”_ Genma drawls in a strange tone, gazing at Kakashi with a look that makes him slightly uncomfortable. “He only tells me the things he wants me to know. Obito’s actually pretty defensive when it comes to you.”

“Defensive?” Kakashi repeats, not meaning to sound so offended, but he finds the idea of Obito being so insecure about their relationship ridiculous. “What is there to defend?”

“No, like, protective or whatever,” Genma clarifies dismissively. “You know, back in the _good old days,_ Obito barely gave a shit about what happened to the people he slept with. I remember this one idiot thought that he’d rescue him from a beating, but Obito just walked away and acted like he didn’t see his bare ass the other night. Kind of funny, but I guess Obito isn’t like that anymore. At least not with you. He’s _committed_ or whatever,” Genma teases with a shrug. He takes a short pause, observing Kakashi closely for a couple of seconds before asking suddenly, “Is something bothering you?” Kakashi looks back at him in confusion. “You seem kind of… _nervous.”_

Every eye and ear within the vicinity seems to fall onto Kakashi, even the ones blocks away from the shop, and his fingers curl against the counter habitually. He swallows the lump in his throat, glancing down at his hands and swiping his palms together. Kakashi didn’t think that his discomfort had been that apparent. The fact that even Genma had been able to tune into his anxiety sets off all sorts of self-doubts in Kakashi’s head. The gazes burn his neck, and he suppresses the urge to shiver. “I just…have a lot of things on my mind.” His voice is already weak.

“What kind of things?” Genma pries, somewhat lightheartedly despite the change in Kakashi’s attitude. Kakashi only purses his lips. “Oh, come on. Is it a secret?” he continues, “I won’t tell anyone if that’s what you want to hear.”

“That’s not very reassuring,” Kakashi utters, but he considers the offer anyways. He figures that if Obito trusts Genma enough to confide in him, Kakashi didn’t have much to lose. Maybe the fact that Genma has known Obito for quite a while can actually help him this time, too. “I’ve been worried about Obito,” he finally admits, gaze falling to the countertop. “Especially after he beat that kid up…he didn’t seem like himself.”

Genma stares at Kakashi carefully, as if processing his words. “Huh. It’s kind of like déjà vu,” he says, and Kakashi gives him a look of question. “I just remember Obito saying the same thing about you over something that happened when you first moved here.”

Kakashi tilts his head to the side. “What?”

“Nothing.” Genma waves the anecdote off. “But, uh, I don’t really find Obito’s actions surprising, honestly. He always was a hothead.”

Kakashi frowns, dissatisfied with the answer. “But…but he wouldn’t _stop,”_ Kakashi tries to explain, but Genma still seems unimpressed. “Obito is usually able to control himself. But this time, he really looked like he lost himself.”

“Didn’t he start a fight with you when you guys first met? You of all people should know that when Obito starts something, he always intends to finish it,” Genma says. “I don’t know about you, but the fact that he fought at all basically shows that he was never able to control himself.”

The words seem to cut a little too close. Kakashi bites his lip, his fingers absently tracing the edge of his sleeve. “Well, _yeah,_ but it was different back then,” Kakashi insists despite his growing doubts about his boyfriend’s self-control. “I mean, when we fought, he wasn’t as…ruthless. Torune didn’t even fight back, but Obito just kept punching him…And the look in his eyes, it was just different, somehow.” Kakashi can still feel the dirt beneath his hands from when he fell to the ground. “And he pushed me out of the way when I tried to stop him. He’s never done that before.”

“I’ve stopped plenty of his fights in the past, so from experience, he tends to push anyone who isn’t a bigger adult out of his way,” Genma tells him, but Kakashi still isn’t convinced. “As for being ruthless, didn’t that _kid_ talk about his family?” Kakashi only nods. “Then that’s probably why. Obito would start fights over stupid shit all of the time, but when it came to insulting his past and particularly his family, he was merciless.”

Kakashi looks down, the frown on his brow only deepening. “It still doesn’t seem like him.”

“Trust me, it _is_ him,” Genma says, not noticing Kakashi’s crumbling faith. “I guess you never really got to see Obito like that since he kind of learned to control himself last year, what with the threat of expulsion and you being pretty much the only person who can get through to him.” He purses his lips. “Now that I think about it, that’s probably why people started to become more careless with their rumors. Back when Obito used to pick fights with every guy that happened to look at him the wrong way, people rarely talked about him, too afraid to get their asses kicked. But now, especially with the recent news…they must have thought he’d gone soft or something, like he’d forgotten how to fight. Because if the old Obito had heard them, half of the school would be black and blue by now.”

 _Soft._ Kakashi is suddenly reminded of the confrontation with Hidan, and how he had taunted both Kakashi and Obito, continuously provoking Obito in an effort to get him to pull the wrong moves. Hidan must have known, Kakashi realizes, that Obito never would have hit him in Kakashi’s presence. Kakashi predictably stopped Obito back then…and if Hidan knew that would happen…no wonder he was bold enough to start something.

Was it really Kakashi’s fault? Is it because of Kakashi that Obito seems so vulnerable to everyone now?

_You’re ruining him._

It stings.

Kakashi shakes his head in an attempt to expel the filthy thoughts that begin to permeate his mind. It doesn’t work. “What do I do?” he finds himself asking, his voice slightly strained. When Genma only stares back at him, he continues, “With Obito? When he’s like that? I don’t want him to get into any more trouble. I tried to talk to him, and I got a little bit out of him, but he’s still…” He stares regrettably at his hands. “He’s still shutting me out.”

Genma only shrugs, though there is some sympathy in his eyes. “I don’t know, man. All I did was stop the fights. I’d never bothered to _research_ and _observe_ him.” He’s quiet for a moment, taking Kakashi’s disheartened expression into consideration. “Hey, if it makes you feel any better, I honestly think that after that kid, no one’s going to want to mess with Obito again for a while.”

A small, sad smile traces Kakashi’s lips, but other than that, his mood does not lift. Genma’s own shoulders seem to slump in response, slight sorrow in the way he clears his throat. Silence falls between them, the only sound coming from the couple taking their leave from the shop.

The door shuts with a little jingle of farewell, and Kakashi speaks again, “When I first met Obito, he told me he wanted to run away from this town.” Kakashi doesn’t really know why he’s bringing the memory up, but a part of him urges him to do so anyways. He briefly remembers sinking into a bean bag chair, laughing boisterously as Obito freely relayed stories from his past as easily as he breathed.

The image almost felt surreal, a fleeting memory of two lost students just trying to pass some time together in their separate but broken worlds. They were so different now, in multiple aspects. But the sentiment is still the same. They both dreamed to be free.

Genma hums, an oddly pensive look in his eyes. “Obito always talks like that when he’s stoned.” He looks as if he wants to say more, but he doesn’t.

Kakashi licks his lips, blinking the distant memory away and peering over at Genma with a slight flush in his cheeks. “After a while, I told him that I wanted to run away with him, too.” Genma looks at him in interest, but Kakashi’s expression is far from optimistic. “Is that stupid?” he asks. “To think like that?”

Genma seems taken aback by the question, lips slightly parted as he processes the words. Kakashi’s fingers clutch the fabric of his apron right over his chest in a meek call for comfort as he waits for the other male’s answer. “Any dream is stupid when you first look at it,” Genma says carefully after a moment. “But that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t go for them.”

Kakashi’s grip tightens. “Do you think we’ll make it?”

Genma stares quietly at Kakashi, at the gloss in his eyes that seems to reflect an entire world filled with burdens too heavy to float. He sees something so unbelievably human in the way Kakashi blinks, vulnerability highlighting the specks of purple beneath his eyes from nights spent lying alone in a darkness that clutches him mercilessly by the throat. A life spent wandering past drifting apparitions and painstakingly defining a truth that no one else ever considers. One eye dissects the verisimilitude of the visions that follow him with every waking breath, and the other desperately holds onto the true black and white that the rest of the world barely bats their lashes to.

It strikes Genma suddenly, but he remembers then that they’re only kids. They’re only kids, but Kakashi isn’t granted that same privilege. Not since the day he first found himself caught in a world that no one else can see. Genma now understands why Kakashi and Obito hold so desperately onto each other. Their worlds oscillate on a faint thread, the two of them their only constants in a life of indefinite variables.

“For your sake,” Genma finally says, a wistful look in his eyes, “I hope you do.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit shorter than usual but I have most of the next chapter already written so it might come a little faster. Thanks for reading <3


	16. Chapter 16

The apartment that his parents have temporarily rented for their stay is better than the house he and Izumi had been forced to live in for six years. The ceilings aren’t filled with mold, the doors don’t creak miserably on their hinges, and none of the white walls that surround them sustained haunting bullet holes or the tears and bloodstains of forgotten promises. There is always food ready for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. The sink is never clogged and filled with dirty dishes and roaches don’t creep from bathroom tile to tile. Obito no longer lies awake at night wondering if someone will break in and hurt him or Izumi. He does not have to worry about the security of his own home.

But it isn’t his home, either. Obito still lies awake every night, not out of insecurity, but from the torment of his own regrets. He cannot dispel the image of Izumi’s tears from his head, her skin paled and scratched with scars, her knees bleeding as she falls to the ground. The stories… _all of those stories_ he’s heard of what his father had done to her…he can’t forget them, he’ll never forget them. Not a single detail. They keep him up at night, but he tells himself that he deserves it. He had failed her. He has no right to forget.

His new life is almost as suffocating as the last. His mother never leaves him alone. If she isn’t worrying over Izumi, she is breathing down his neck, attempting to control a son that she’d lost a long time ago. She constantly nags him, telling him meaningless things like _“violence is never the answer,”_ tossing out his cigarettes, and even going as far as giving him a _curfew._ Her relentless micromanaging of his life not only increased his irritation for the ignorant woman, but it also made him feel even more aggravated with her entitlement. She had disappeared for _six_ years, only to suddenly come back out of the blue and attempt to wrap a chain around his neck? As far as Obito is concerned, she has absolutely _no right to mother him like this,_ not now, not _ever._ He had grown up without a mother, and to him, it was meant to stay that way.

It’s almost laughable how she thinks she can insert herself back into his life, almost as easily as she disregarded it all of those years ago. She talks to him as if she knows him, knows who he is. But she doesn’t know _who_ he is. She still thinks he’s the same little boy that she tucked into bed and sang to sleep at night, small and afraid and dependent on her comfort. His mother doesn’t seem to realize just how much he’s changed since she left or how the scars of her departure pierce further than the surface.

His _father_ is a different story. His real father.

He has a smile that says he’s never suffered a day in his life.

It is clear to Obito that his real father is a man of many good memories and increasing successes. Although the man grew up in Japan, he studied abroad in the United States for several years. After graduating, he spent most of his time travelling around the world, always ultimately returning to Japan, where he eventually met Obito’s mother. The story alone told Obito enough about the man and his upbringing, a stark contrast to Obito’s own pathetic one.

Unlike his mother, the man does not constantly follow Obito around. Rather, it’s his mere presence in the apartment that brings Obito discomfort.

Obito does not like his true father. Everything about the man is an antithesis of Obito, and it almost hurts him to think of his real father’s character as _what Obito could have been_ had he grown up with such an optimistic man. So much potential wasted. Obito can see that the man quietly desires to be a true father for him, but it feels more like pity than anything else. It’s too late for Obito. _His parents came home too late._

Obito barely ever speaks a word to his father, avoiding him by locking himself in his room whenever the man comes home. It isn’t until one particular weekend that his father finally catches him alone, Obito too busy smoking a cigarette on the balcony of the apartment to notice his approaching form.

“Obito,” the older male greets him as he steps out onto the balcony, sliding the glass door close and leaning back against its surface. Obito tenses, but he chooses not to say anything. “You shouldn’t be smoking,” he experimentally chides, observing the way Obito’s jaw clenches ever so slightly. “You know how your mother feels about it.”

“She isn’t here,” Obito utters back, eyes never leaving the drifting streets below as smoke slowly leaves his lungs.

His father joins him by the railing, glancing over at the view distractedly as he searches for words to say. “I thought she threw those things away?”

“Not all of them.” Obito eyes the man a bit suspiciously, the stiff conversation leaving a bitter taste on his tongue. He does not want this to drag out any longer than necessary. “What do you want?” The hostility in his tone does not go unnoticed.

His father gives him a small smile, crossing his arms over his chest as his gaze briefly wanders up to the sky. “I just wanted to talk. You always seem to avoid me, so I thought that catching you here would be the best time to try.” He sounds so open and hopeful despite Obito’s reproach, but the teen does not reciprocate the attitude.

“I avoid you for a reason,” Obito murmurs beneath his breath, his cigarette dangling between two fingers as he stares tiredly down at the traffic below. Cars move at a sluggish pace, and his shoulders seem to slump lower.

“And what reason is that?” the man asks, eyes attempting to meet Obito’s. Obito has to suppress the urge to groan. “Is it because you don’t know me yet?”

Obito almost wants to laugh. He honestly couldn’t care less about this man. “It’s because I don’t want to fucking talk to you,” he utters emotionlessly instead, and he briefly glances over at the older man to gauge his reaction.

His father merely smiles back. Any hints of hurt are quickly masked by his welcoming smile, and Obito subconsciously scowls. “Has your mother ever told you about how we met?” he suddenly asks, and Obito pauses, a bit dumbfounded by the abrupt question.

He covers up his surprise with a scoff. “No, she hasn’t. And I’m not interested in hearing it, either.”

“Well, why not?”

Obito’s jaw clenches in irritation. “Because I’m not interested in hearing about how you took my mother away from me,” Obito says before he can stop himself, and his father looks at him in surprise.

The drift between father and son increases with every shallow breath. The balcony breeze feels much colder, reminding them each and every day of the up and coming fall. “I didn’t know she was engaged when I met her,” the man confesses, and Obito freezes, ashes crumbling from the tip of his cigarette. “She wasn’t wearing a ring. I didn’t find out until she told me she was pregnant with you.”

Obito swallows thickly, the newfound information striking him harder than he had expected. It fills him with both disbelief and indignation, his contempt for his mother only increasing. “Ain’t that a bitch.”

“I still remember that day,” his father relates, and Obito turns his head to look at him, eyes void of any emotion. “She wouldn’t stop crying, lost and confused and so filled with regret. I didn’t understand why she was so upset because as far as I knew, we were in love with each other. But then she took out her ring, and just like that, the world collapsed beneath my feet.”

“Poetic,” Obito remarks drily. “I guess my mother really is a world-class swindler.”

“Obito, don’t speak of her like that,” his father reproaches him gently, but Obito pays the request no mind, taking a long drag from his cigarette with a roll of his eyes as the man continues his unwarranted story. “She wanted to run away with me. She told me about how miserable she was with her fiancé and how she dreamt of a future with me every night. She believed that this was her chance, that _you_ were her chance out of her engagement, but I couldn’t do it. Not after hearing the truth. I felt so used and betrayed.”

“Is this supposed to somehow make me feel better?” Obito questions flatly, though the more he listens, the more he wants to hear. He knows next to nothing about the truth of his parents’ separation, nor did he know anything of his mother’s motives. Still, the thought of his mother using _him,_ a _mistake,_ to run away filled him with more disgust than anything else. His mother was even more of a child than he thought. 

“Not necessarily,” the man admits, hands sliding into his pockets as he gives Obito an almost sheepish smile. “I just thought that you deserved to know what really happened back then. I’d imagine that living in the dark for so long can become suffocating. Maybe it’ll help you understand your mother just a bit more.”

“I understand that she’s an absolute fraud,” Obito utters. “That, or she’s just plain _stupid.”_

His father heaves out a deep sigh. “I can see where you’re coming from. I thought she had cheated me, too. I couldn’t forgive her when I found out that she had been engaged the entire time we were dating. Though I was still in love with her, I knew I couldn’t be with her, not after everything she’d done.”

“So you left her,” Obito murmurs.

The man nods. “I did.”

Obito gives him a bitter smile. “You didn’t even bother to tell the asshole the truth?” His father blinks in surprise. “Tell him that his fiancée was cheating on him? Tell him that the kid in her stomach wasn’t his?” He feels sick, abhorred with _the should have’s_ and _what could have been’s._ “Would have saved us a whole lot of trouble, that’s for sure.”

His father is silent, and Obito knows that the man has no other excuse for such neglect. “Perhaps I was too caught in the moment, too busy feeling sorry for myself that I didn’t bother to think about the potential consequences of my actions. Maybe I was also ashamed for letting myself get swept away by a woman’s promises for far too long. I dreamed of a future with her, planned it even, only to have it all crushed in a single night,” he explains carefully, and Obito only grunts, but the man’s words seem to settle in a crevice in the back of his mind. “I had no way of foretelling that any of this would have happened. If I knew, I would have been smarter with my decisions,” he continues. “I left her almost immediately back then, and when I did, I did it with the intention of never seeing her again. I’d cut off all contact with her. But she came back for me anyways.”

“So Izumi isn’t yours, either,” Obito states, the unspoken fact he had always feared suddenly surfacing. He had always suspected that he and Izumi did not share the same father, and if his real father abandoned his mother after Obito had been conceived, there was no way Izumi could have been his. When Obito turns to look at his father for affirmation, the latter’s silence answers the dreadful question for him. “Fucking _fantastic,”_ Obito mutters. His mother never fails to disappoint, it seems. “You should have left her behind anyways,” he says monotonously, and his father looks at him in surprise. “It was stupid of you to take her back.”

His father’s gaze drops to the ground, a sad smile forming on his face. “I wanted to,” he softly admits, and Obito tilts his head to one side, cracking his neck to relieve himself of some grief. “I tried my best to push her away, but I was still in love with her, even after all of those years.”

 _“Still in love with her,”_ Obito repeats as if he can’t believe it, the very phrase tasting like bile on his tongue. _“Love_ is beginning to sound more and more like a backwards fairytale than anything else. Almost an _excuse,”_ Obito spits. “Both you and my mother made stupid decisions for the sake of love. What is love even worth if all it does is bring people _pain?”_ the words escape him before he can stop himself, and he bites down on his tongue, his heart beginning to stir in his chest as Kakashi’s eyes suddenly appear before him.

_Pain._

He remembers Kakashi shaking in his arms. He remembers Kakashi’s bandaged scars. He remembers Kakashi’s cries in the middle of the street, the anguish in his screams, the tears that clouded his eyes.

“The value of love is subjective,” his father patiently says, and Obito swallows, unable to take his mind off of Kakashi’s wavering gaze. “And its choices always seem to come with a price. While love does bring us pain, it can still give us so much _more._ I couldn’t resist your mother in the end and my pride suffered because of it, but I don’t regret my decision, either—”

Obito’s eyes sharpen, and Kakashi’s image disappears. “You don’t regret it?” Obito echoes bitterly. _“Of course you don’t._ You had nothing to do with us, after all. It’s not like you had much to lose other than your worthless pride.”

His father blinks, surprised with Obito’s outburst, but he fumbles to maintain his composure. “That’s…not what I meant,” he says, somewhat sheepishly, and Obito only scoffs. “I can’t excuse everything your mother has done. Her decision to run off and chase after me was impulsive at best, as well as many of her other choices, but I can assure you that she does regret leaving you and Izumi behind.”

“But she doesn’t regret cheating. And she doesn’t regret running away to find _you,”_ Obito recites, clearly remembering the words from his mother’s letters, the pile likely burned in the fire his false father had fostered many nights ago. “You can’t be sorry for a convenient part of a problem and expect forgiveness for the entire thing.”

His father stares at Obito silently, clearly at a loss for words. “She…we don’t ask for forgiveness,” he tries, though his eyes waver as he speaks. “It’s undeserved, and we know it. I only ask that you give us a chance.” He sounds hopeful despite the strain of remorse in his voice, but Obito does not entertain it.

 _“A chance?”_ Obito repeats incredulously. “A chance for what? A chance to be the responsible parents the two of you should have been a _long time ago?”_ He pauses to hear another excuse, but when his father doesn’t say anything, Obito continues, “The two of you can act like my parents all you want, but I’m not going to pretend. You were right. I _don’t_ know you. And I don’t think I’ll ever want to. I feel sorrier for you than anything else, for letting yourself fall in love with such a stupid, selfish, and starry-eyed person. You could have stayed out of this easily had you made the right decision and left her behind, but you let her drag you back in anyways.” His cigarette begins to burn out, shrinking with every breath, every regret that lingers in the air. “She’s a _joke._ She isn’t worth loving, not as a _wife_ and _definitely not as a mother.”_

“She has her flaws,” he defends, conviction in his voice, “but that does not mean that she does not deserve love. She’s only _human,_ Obito. She makes mistakes and she hurts like everyone else.”

“How can you love someone with mistakes like _that?”_

“By knowing that she can learn from them, by believing that she will become a better person as she overcomes them.”

Obito scoffs. “She’s a lost cause.”

His father’s eyes soften, and his gaze falls to the ground. “She thought so, too,” he softly says. “But I know she isn’t. So I’ll stay by her side until she shows the world that she’s _more than her mistakes_ and that she can truly change for the better. I love her because _I believe in her.”_

Obito freezes, the words striking him to the core, and suddenly he sees Kakashi once more.

Silence falls between them, and the breeze by the balcony is cold, the distance between father and son only increasing as the sun slowly sets in the horizon. Town lights begin to flicker on all around them, illuminating their faces in colors across the spectrum. It becomes more and more clear that their lives are oceans apart, and years of mistakes and injudicious wishes serve as a brittle bridge. Kakashi’s eyes never leave Obito’s mind, and suddenly he can see _himself_ in the man who should have been his father.

It leaves a bitter taste on his tongue.

The man breaks the silence, his voice like a cricket in the wind. “Why won’t you let her… _us_ in?” he asks, and he sounds so sad, so pained by Obito’s distrust that Obito almost feels sorry. Almost.

He takes one last drag out of his cigarette before snuffing it out and tossing it over the balcony, his fingers stiff from the cold and eyes weary from the wind. “Because she isn’t my mother,” Obito answers simply, “and you are not my father.”

The words mean nothing to him anymore.

—

“Kakashi, how many times do I have to tell you to clean your room?” Kakashi’s uncle suddenly yells from the door. Kakashi looks up from his window to stare back at him in a slightly annoyed manner. “It’s always such a _mess_ in here. Every time I come in, I see less and less of the floor.”

Kakashi rolls his eyes, resting his head against his hand tiredly. “I’ll clean it later.”

 _“Later_ my ass,” his uncle utters. “I swear, if this room doesn’t get cleaned, I’ll do it myself—” Kakashi automatically tunes his uncle out as soon as he starts lecturing him, eyes falling to the window once more, thoughts beginning to wander somewhere (or onto _someone_ ) else.

He pauses when he notices a familiar face in the streets below.

“—you’re not even listening to me, are you?” his uncle finishes his lecture, and Kakashi gets up out of bed, giving his uncle a half shrug. “Where are you going, Hatake Kakashi?”

“I’ll clean my room when I come back,” Kakashi says dismissively, patting his uncle’s shoulder before heading out of the apartment. He vaguely hears his uncle sigh and utter something in the background, but Kakashi doesn’t care. He zips his jacket up as he steps outside, murmuring small excuse me’s to strangers as he searches for his friend in the crowd.

“Nagato!” Kakashi calls out, a small smile on his lips despite his dampened mood, picking up his pace in order to catch up to the older male. “Wait for me!”

Nagato stops walking, turning around and regarding Kakashi with a friendly smile. “Hey, Kakashi,” he says when Kakashi finally stops in front of him, “I was just thinking about going into the shop for you.”

Kakashi slides his hands into his pockets, balancing on the balls of his heels. “I’d rather not go in there right now. My uncle will just bother me about cleaning my room.”

Nagato lets out a playful _tsk,_ an amused look in his eyes. “You should clean your room.”

Kakashi only shrugs his shoulders, moving to stand by Nagato’s side as the two of them begin walking down the busy street. “Entropy happens.”

Nagato laughs. “That doesn’t mean you shouldn’t clean your room.” When Kakashi only shrugs again, Nagato lets out a soft sigh of content. “Well, how have you been lately, Kakashi? You seem to be in a better mood than you were the last time we spoke.”

“Is that so?” Kakashi distractedly says, his fingers fidgeting with his sleeves. “Maybe I am. I don’t really feel any better, though. Honestly, I think I’m just too exhausted to be as paranoid as I usually am.”

“Too exhausted?” Nagato repeats in surprise. “You really haven’t been getting any sleep, have you?”

“I already told you that I can’t sleep,” Kakashi says as a passing woman turns around to look at him. “And it’s not just that anyways. It’s Obito.”

Nagato pauses in his steps, glancing over at Kakashi in concern. “Did something happen?”

Kakashi stops walking as well, disturbing the flow of traffic, disgruntled businessmen and women maneuvering around him. “You heard the news, didn’t you?” Kakashi quietly asks, and after a particularly hurried man bumps into his shoulder, he steps away from the sidewalk and into a nearby alleyway.

Nagato follows him easily, his eyebrows pulled into a look of confusion. “I didn’t.”

Kakashi looks up at Nagato in mild surprise. “Really? How?”

“I’ve been quite busy with my thesis,” Nagato replies in an almost reflective manner, and Kakashi gives him a look of doubt.

“You’re still working on that? It’s been a little over a year now! You’re slacking, Nagato,” Kakashi teases, and Nagato gives him a sheepish chuckle. Kakashi smiles back for a moment, but he sobers back up almost immediately. “Something happened to his family, and now he’s living with his real mother and father. But things were crazy, and Obito’s been super distant…and I don’t know what to do.”

“What can you do?” Nagato asks him. “Have you talked to him about it?”

“I have…” Kakashi answers. “But he only tells me so much. I don’t want to push him so hard, especially because of the sensitive situation. And I just…” Kakashi bites his lip. “I just never quite know what to say to him.”

Nagato frowns. “Maybe Obito isn’t ready to talk about whatever it is that’s bothering him quite yet. Just give him some time to cope, and when he’s ready, he’ll talk to you.”

Kakashi stares down at his hands, the threads on the sleeves of his jacket becoming a little loose from the amount of times he’s tugged at them. “But I don’t think I’ll know what to do when he finally does talk.”

“What do you mean?”

Kakashi looks up, shaking his head lightly as he gives Nagato a sad smile. “I don’t think I’m good enough for him.” Hearing it out loud hurt him more than he thought it would.

Nagato’s lips part slightly, and he quickly shakes his head, brows pulled together in a frown of disagreement. “No, Kakashi, don’t think like that. Of course you’re—”

“But I’ve _barely_ been able to do anything for him,” Kakashi explains, and his mind seems to flit over all of the times he’s failed to be there for Obito. Failed to be by his side when he should have been. Failed to keep him safe. “Obito always seems to know what to say when I lose control. But when he does…I’m just…lost.”

“I’m sure you’ve done more for him than you think—”

“What good comes from giving him empty promises?” Kakashi finds himself saying, and he nearly bites his tongue. “I think I messed up…I think I really messed up…” Kakashi suddenly feels as if every single person on the street is staring at him, all men, women, and children watching his every move as his head begins to feel light. “If I haven’t messed up already, I’m _going_ to mess things up, I just _know_ it.”

“Kakashi, what on earth are you talking about?” Nagato asks, attempting to reach out to Kakashi, but Kakashi fumbles away. “You’re not making any sense.”

“I’m not strong enough for him, all I ever do is mess everything up, I just—” Kakashi’s fingers find their way into his hair, tugging at the strands in frustration. “It’s my hallucinations, Nagato. The delusions, the anxiety, _everything._ It’s all back and it’s becoming worse and worse with everyday…and I don’t know how much longer I can control myself. I can barely keep it together, and I just know…one of these days I’m going to mess things up with Obito. I’ll end up having a really bad episode at the worst time possible and Obito is going to have to drop everything and take care of me _all over again,_ and he’ll just keep pushing his feelings back because he’ll probably think that I won’t be able to handle him and _all of that_ just goes to show how _weak_ I really am—”

“Slow _down,_ Kakashi,” Nagato says, trying his best to meet Kakashi’s stirring eyes. “You’re overthinking things, you’re not weak, you’re—”

“But I _am,_ Nagato, I _am!”_ Kakashi cries out, and his back falls against the brick wall behind him, his head falling to his hands. “Everywhere I go I’m always scared, so scared that something is going to happen to me! Or Obito! It always feels like everyone is watching me and even now the damn _shadows_ on these walls look like they’re coming for me. It’s so hard to pretend I’m not seeing these things, _hearing_ all of these horrible thoughts, _especially_ around Obito.” Kakashi’s fingers dig into the skin of his face, and it feels as if he can peel it all right off. “Whenever he starts getting angry or aggravated or stressed o-o-or _anything,_ I start to feel it, too! And it gets worse and worse and Iruka gets louder and louder and I can’t…I’m not strong enough to be there for him. Eventually… _eventually I’m going to reach my limit.”_

Nagato stares down at Kakashi miserably. “The only thing I can tell you is to _tell him._ You have to tell him that you’ve stopped taking your meds, tell him that’s you’re having a hard time—”

“What good is that going to do, Nagato?” Kakashi asks him through bleary eyes. “Telling him will only make him push aside his feelings even more! He’ll set aside his own issues just to deal with _mine._ I don’t want that, Nagato, he can’t know, he can’t.” He hears a voice hiss against the shell of his ear, and he knows that it’s Iruka, whimpers escaping his lips as he attempts to ward the delusions away. “I messed up…I _really_ messed up…”

Nagato looks as if he’s at a loss for words. “Kakashi…”

“I’m not good enough…I’m not good enough for him. I’m too weak and emotional and all I ever do is bring him down with me. But I love him, Nagato, I love him _too much_ to let him go even though I know I should!” Kakashi’s breaths are heavy as his eyes begin to burn. “I’m holding him back, I’m always holding him back—”

“Excuse me,” someone says, and when Kakashi looks up, another boy stands before him. He looks about Kakashi’s age, and his eyes are filled with worry. Kakashi’s head begins to feel unbearably tight as he stares bewilderedly at the stranger. The stranger gives him a careful smile, reaching a hand out as if to touch Kakashi’s shoulder, but Kakashi slowly backs away. “Are you okay?” the stranger asks, concern evident in both his tone and expression, but Kakashi doesn’t want him coming any closer.

“I-I’m _fine,”_ Kakashi forces himself to say, but the shadows on the walls seem to close in on him, and the stranger continues to stand there, unmoving, giving Kakashi that same look, that look of pity he’s always hated. His head starts to spin as a multitude of voices takes over, screaming at him to do one thing or the other, arguing, laughing, tossing him aside from one corner to the next.

 _It’s coming, it’s coming,_ and Kakashi knows it is. But he can’t be here. He can’t. He feels Iruka’s presence behind him, his knees going weak from the pressure, and his back hits the wall once more.

“Oh, god,” someone else says, and Kakashi only then notices that another person is with the stranger. “I think he’s having a panic attack—”

“What should we do?”

“I don’t know, I think we should—” Taunting screeches of laughter rip through his ears, and Kakashi slides down against the wall, hugging his knees to his chest as he clasps his hands over his ears in desperation. He can feel insects all over him, his heart beating erratically in his chest, and slowly things begin to swirl and fade in and out of existence. He isn’t sure what is real and what is not anymore.

He hopes that this is a nightmare. At least then, he could wake up.

—

The rain casts a fog that hangs its head low through the haze of the night.

Obito discovers his father’s death through a quiet phone call, with no eyes to stare into or a warm hand to hold.

He thinks he can still hear his voice in the mist.

The small child within him begins to cry. He misses a father that was never his.

But Obito himself feels empty. His chest is hollow and the tears that fall from his eyes are not his, he tells himself, but the child’s. His breaths are short, shaky, and when he looks up, the sky, too, is empty. 

He hopes that the man who had abused him and his sister for years suffers in hell.

But the child within him still stares up at that empty sky, praying for a voice to tell him otherwise.

—

Kakashi can’t sleep.

His head drops to his knees as he holds his legs close, the ache in his head a throbbing pain that increases with every whisper, every utter, every laughter. They all tell him the same things, but he cannot place a single word, his own thoughts struggling to be heard through the dissonance. Kakashi tries to get a grip on himself, his fingertips curling into his legs in a desperate attempt to affix himself in the real world while his lucidity gradually drips away. 

The more present parts of him beg him to call Obito, his uncle, _anyone,_ because he knows that he can’t handle this by himself. But the voices continue to ridicule him for being so weak and dependent, for being unable to fight for himself, fight _himself,_ and allowing the persistent bits of his insecurities take over his will. He wants Obito most of all, but the presence beside him insists on his own undesirability. Kakashi’s nails dig into his legs, raising reddened skin, desperation beginning to dictate his breath as he struggles to resist the temptation to call.

His phone rings beside him but it takes Kakashi a moment to hear it, his mind too muddled to process his surroundings. The screen illuminates the dark room with a withered white, and Kakashi’s eyes waver as he peers over. He blinks once, twice, unsure if he had read the name correctly before slowly sitting up and carefully taking his phone, his lip caught between his teeth as he weighs two realities against each other.

 _Obito,_ his phone tells him. Obito is calling him, but Kakashi isn’t quite sure. For the past few days, he’s been answering the phone for No One, opening doors for No One, and wandering down hallways chasing No One. It’s 11:27 PM, and Obito never calls him so late at night without warning, so it _can’t_ be him. He’s imagining it, _I’m imagining it,_ he tells himself over and over again, but his phone does not stop ringing, vibrating against his drawer and rumbling the surface for his attention. Kakashi doesn’t want to pick up the phone and hear empty breathing, he doesn’t want to hear static or distorted voices, he doesn’t want to pick up the phone to _No One_ again.

But the ringing doesn’t stop. It seems to multiply in intensity, and Kakashi’s hands are already reaching for his phone against his wavering doubts. A part of him desperately wants to hear Obito’s voice, a raspy rumble that is always comforting no matter the situation, and it compels him to answer despite every warning telling him that it will be No One again. It’s _always_ No One.

He answers his phone and waits to hear nothing, back falling against his bed as he loses himself to his own frustrations. Kakashi grows more and more cynical when no one responds, only to hear the sound of rain muffled through the speaker.

 _“Kakashi?”_ he hears, and Kakashi immediately sits up, his heart picking up in his chest at the familiar call.

“Obito? Is that you?” the words escape Kakashi as a breathless wish before his doubts can take control, praying that it truly is him and that this isn’t another one of his mind’s cruel tricks. He’s so tired…so tired of hearing No One.

There’s silence for a moment, Kakashi’s heart plummeting to his chest as he immediately assumes the worst. _He isn’t there, it isn’t him, you fell for it again_. His grip on the phone tightens as misery consumes him, only to hear that voice once more, _“Please open the door.”_

Kakashi pauses, confusion overtaking him as he moves towards his window. “Open the door?” he wonders out loud, peering through the curtains and into the darkness. The rain outside is light as it patters against his windowpane, blanketing the empty streets in a glowing mist despite the darkness of the night.

 _“Please,”_ he hears through the phone, the desperation in Obito’s voice drawing Kakashi out of his trance, _“I need to see you again.”_

Kakashi’s eyes waver as he pulls away from the window, ending the call and slipping out of bed. He straightens out his sweater and tugs on the hem of his shorts as he leaves the apartment, Obito’s words repeating over and over in his head. The distress in Obito’s tone coupled with the simple plea made his mind go blank, Kakashi unable to think as he lets his body move for him. He has never heard such pain in Obito’s voice before, and despite every little whisper in his head telling Kakashi that he can’t do anything, he pushes against his fear and opens the door in the hopes that instead of No One, _someone_ will be there this time.

“Obito,” Kakashi breathes as he holds the door open, eyes darting between Obito’s own empty ones. Obito’s hair and clothes are dampened by the misty rain, clinging to his frame as he stands miserably at the door. They stare at each other for what feels like an eternity before Kakashi reaches out, gently pulling Obito into the stairwell and allowing the door to close behind them.

Kakashi bites his lip as he studies Obito’s features, his boyfriend’s expression looking absolutely defeated as drops of rain dripped from the tips of his bangs. “Obito,” Kakashi says again, hand shaky as he reaches up to touch Obito’s cheek, only to hesitate as the fear of this being yet another illusion freezes his movements. His heart tremors in his chest, unsure of what to do or what to believe as he stares longingly into Obito’s eyes.

Obito reaches up, a gesture that catches his attention, taking Kakashi’s hand in his own and carefully linking their fingers together. “Kakashi,” Obito murmurs before leaning in and drawing their lips together in a soft kiss. Kakashi closes his eyes as Obito breathes him in, his grip on Obito’s hand tightening as his heart begins to settle in his chest. His fears disperse as Obito’s touch reassures him that this isn’t another mocking dream. _He’s here. He’s real._

Obito is the one to pull away, his hands falling to Kakashi’s hips as he holds him close. Kakashi remains still as Obito’s head drops to his neck, Obito rubbing his nose against the thin skin and taking in Kakashi’s soft scent.

 _“You’re all I have left,”_ Obito whispers against Kakashi’s skin.

Kakashi blinks, his fingers curling into Obito’s shoulders. “What happened?” he asks, voice barely a breath.

Obito shakes his head, pulling away and giving Kakashi a strained smile. Kakashi stares back at him in worry, eyes searching Obito’s for answers as the sound of rain begins to pick up outside of the building, a pattering echo in the stairwell.

“He’s dead,” Obito finally says, and Kakashi’s throat goes dry. The smile on Obito’s face seems to wither as his next words breaks his self-control apart. “My father is dead.”

_My father._

Kakashi lets out a shaky exhale of realization as he watches Obito’s eyes gradually fill with tears. He’s too stunned by the news to move, unable to do anything but stare as tears begin to roll down Obito’s cheeks, the older male succumbing to his sobs as his hold on Kakashi weakly tightens.

_My father._

Kakashi’s heart aches in his chest. He had always sensed it, every time Obito ever mentioned the man he grew up under, every time Obito expressed his hatred, his frustrations for the person he swore he’d never want to see again. _Obito still loved that man,_ or at least a part of him did, a part of him that still held on to his happier childhood memories with a family that has yet to fall apart. With so much change in Obito’s life at once, his father’s death, despite his abuse, must have been the final breaking point.

Kakashi reaches up, gently wiping Obito’s tears away before taking his hand and guiding him up the stairs. They enter Kakashi’s room, Kakashi coaxing Obito onto the bed and turning back around to head back out. He glances over, watching as Obito sits lifelessly on the edge of his bed, a small, mournful sigh escaping his lips.

“I’ll be back,” Kakashi says, but Obito does not move, only wiping at his tears in silence. Kakashi looks down before leaving the room, heading to his uncle’s bedroom and softly knocking at the door.

“Uncle,” Kakashi says as soon as the door opens, his relative staring blearily back at him. “Obito is here.”

His uncle blinks, glancing past Kakashi’s shoulder in question. “Obito is here?” he repeats. Kakashi nods. “Why?”

Kakashi swallows, gaze falling to the ground. “His father passed.”

His uncle breathes in deeply, understanding in his eyes, but his sigh expresses his hesitance. “He should be with his family.”

“I think he isn’t for a reason,” Kakashi says. “Can he stay?”

His uncle stares quietly back at Kakashi, understanding the implications, and Kakashi’s eyes never waver. “Until Monday.”

Kakashi gives his uncle a small smile, whispering a soft _‘thank you’_ before heading back for his room. He hears his uncle heave another heavy sigh as he reenters his room, but Kakashi pays it no mind as he closes the door behind him.

Kakashi’s expression falls when he sees Obito, his boyfriend now leaning against the wall, arms crossed as he stares forlornly out of the window. He opens his mouth to speak, only to hear Obito instead.

“I must be more pathetic than I thought,” Obito murmurs, and Kakashi pauses, staring carefully back at Obito’s rigid form. His boyfriend’s glare never leaves the window, and his jaw seems to clench as another tear slips from his eyes. “That asshole ruined my life, but now that he’s gone, all I can think about are all of the times he acted like a real father.” His arms tense. “It’s like my childhood self can’t let go of that monster. It’s so pathetic.”

Kakashi swallows. He does not know what to say.

“How can I actually feel _sorry_ for someone like that?” Obito asks, but he doesn’t sound like he’s speaking to Kakashi at all. Obito’s voice trembles as he struggles to maintain his composure, but the tears that continue to slip from his eyes betray his fortitude. “I should be happy that the fucker is gone for good, but I’m _not._ That stupid little boy inside of me is crying for him, crying for his fucking father that never actually existed. It’s pathetic, Kakashi, I’m so fucking _pathetic.”_

Kakashi bites his lip, stepping forward carefully, a hand reaching out to touch Obito’s shoulder, only to hesitate upon seeing the tension in his boyfriend’s muscles. “It’s okay to be sad, Obito. It doesn’t mean that you’re pathetic, it just means—”

“What could it possibly mean?” Obito bitterly questions, tears rolling down his cheeks. “It’s okay to be sad, but is it okay to be sad over _him? Him?_ I can’t face them like this. I can’t face _Izumi_ like this. She’s torn up, too, but how can I look her in the eyes and cry over the man that ripped her apart? What does that make me look like?”

Kakashi stares miserably back at Obito, struggling in his search for the right words, but none would appear before him. His hands clench by his sides, frustration burning through his blood at how helpless he feels. _Useless. Useless. Useless._

“I’m so tired, Kakashi,” Obito says, finally looking away from the window and turning to look at him. Kakashi’s breath hitches in his throat, unable to tear his gaze away from the pain in his boyfriend’s eyes. “Every day it just gets worse and worse. My parents won’t leave me alone. Izumi stays at home more than she ever goes to school. She _still_ won’t fucking talk to me properly, and today was the first day she expressed any emotion, and it was over our fucking _father._ I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t deal with it anymore, I couldn’t listen to my little sister cry over that asshole any longer. But who the fuck was I kidding? _I’m_ crying over him, too, I just didn’t want her or any of them to see me—” Obito lets out a shaky breath, his head leaning back against the wall as he stares despondently at Kakashi.

“I’m so fucking weak, Kakashi,” he continues, tears flowing freely from his eyes, clinging to his chin and dropping to the floor. “I’m weak and too fucking prideful to face my own family. What is the point anymore? What am I fighting? Why am I trying so hard when I know that all I’m doing is tearing everyone further and further apart? Why is it that I can’t forgive my damn parents who have been trying their fucking hardest to earn it, why is it that I can’t forgive my own damn self for my mistakes, yet I have the fucking audacity to cry over my f-father’s _death?_ He isn’t even my _father!_ _Why_ can’t I let him go? _Why_ can’t I let myself be happy? _Why_ do I still _try?”_

Kakashi can feel his own eyes begin to burn as he watches Obito fall apart before him, his nose beginning to sting as a lump forms in his throat. His lip quavers as he fumbles for something, anything to say to help Obito, _anything._ “No…you’re…you’re _not_ weak…” Kakashi whispers, and he feels absolutely pathetic. “You’re…you’re the _strongest_ person I know…” That’s all he can say to Obito. He has no answers, shame coating his features as a storm of laughter rings in his ears.

Obito gives Kakashi a tearful smile. “I’ve never been strong, Kakashi,” he says quietly, his breaths shallow. “I’ve never done anything right in my life. That strength is just my stupid _pride,_ the only fucking thing I have left in this shithole of a world. I’m just so _tired of trying._ Everything I’ve ever done, every person I’ve ever spoken to, I’ve let them all down one way or another. I’m nothing but a big fucking _failure—”_

Kakashi’s heart drops, wanting to scream, shout, _cry_ that Obito is so much more than that, so much more than the failure everyone views him as. But he can’t. The words leave him. “You’re not a failure, you’ve done so much for me and Izumi and…” He desperately searches for more, but his mind betrays him as he only hears his own doubts, his own insecurities piling up, mixing with the whispers.

“And how far has that gotten us?” Obito questions him. “Izumi’s childhood has been taken away from her. And you’re afraid of me—” Kakashi blinks in surprise, “—I always manage to fuck things up.”

“I’m not afraid of you,” Kakashi tries to deny, but Obito only gives him a sad smile.

“Back with Torune, I saw the look in your eyes,” Obito says, his expression filled with regret. “And later that day, when we were together, that look was there again. I always see it nowadays, so I know, Kakashi. I know, and I’m sorry I can’t control myself.”

Kakashi bites his lip. “I’m not afraid of you, Obito. I’d never be afraid of you.” He feared something else. _Everything_ else, but never Obito.

“You don’t have to lie to me,” Obito tells him, shaking his head solemnly. “I’m sorry. I don’t know anymore. I’m tired, and everything fucking hurts.”

Kakashi stares pathetically at Obito, wanting so desperately to say something yet having _nothing_ to say. All words escape him, his mind suddenly completely void of any noise, a torturous silence. “Obito—”

“When will it _end?”_ Obito whispers. “Everything about this town, about my family…they all tear me apart. _When will it fucking end?”_

Kakashi finally walks forward, reaching out and taking Obito’s hands in his. “We’ll run away, Obito,” Kakashi finds himself saying despite his best conscious. He feels as if they’re constantly going in circles, but he doesn’t care anymore. He doesn’t care for his doubts. Kakashi wants to run away with Obito, _anywhere,_ in any way as long as Obito is happy. “Once we graduate, we’ll take everything we have and get out of here.”

Obito stares down at their hands, eyes unreadable before a small, sad smile forms on his face. “…My father… _late_ father gave up a lot to be with my mother,” he says slowly, voice strained and weak from crying. “He was from a bigger city, but he moved here for her because she insisted on building a life together in her home town. Then even _she_ gave up on this town, leaving him behind in a place he had no ties to. But he couldn’t leave anymore. He was stuck. He trapped himself, or maybe _she_ trapped him, but either way, this was where my father had hoped to build a future. Instead, this town eventually became nothing but a stinging reminder of years he would never get back, and ultimately the place he died in. He had no love for this town. He only had love for her.” Obito disentangles his fingers from Kakashi’s, his hands falling limp by his sides. “As much as I’ve said I wanted to run away, I’m realizing just how much we have to risk for it. Just how _stupid_ the idea really is. You were right, we have to be more realistic than this.”

Kakashi’s eyes waver ever so slightly, but when he reaches out to take Obito’s hands again, the other steps away. “It isn’t easy, but we can do it,” Kakashi insists, desperation lacing his tone. “We…we’ll find a place first. We’ll be smart about it, making sure that everything is set up before we—”

“Don’t you get it, Kakashi?” Obito rasps, and Kakashi merely stares back at him in confusion. “My parents were absolutely in love with each other. At least they thought they were, until time changed them. Until my mother found someone else. It’s so unpredictable, Kakashi. _Love_ is so unpredictable, and so unbelievably _painful._ I don’t want to leave what little I have behind only to be heartbroken in the end.”

Kakashi’s heart drops to his stomach. “You…You don’t really believe that, do you?” Kakashi whispers, only for his eyes to widen in horror when he finds that Obito truly does. “Obito, _I would never leave you—”_

“I don’t _know_ that, Kakashi,” Obito says, his eyes strained from dried tears. _“You_ don’t know that either. We love each other now, yes, but what about _later?_ What if I mess things up even more? What if you suddenly realize you don’t love me anymore, and then you leave me for someone else, someone _better,_ and I’m left alone in a place that isn’t even my home?”

“That would never happen, I…I would _never_ leave you for anyone else,” Kakashi tells him, his grasp on Obito tightening in desperation as he begs Obito to believe him. “You’re the only person I’ve ever loved, the only person I’ll _ever_ love, and I know it—”

“We have so many years ahead of us,” Obito whispers. “You don’t _know_. You can’t _know_. My mother thought she was in love with my late father, too. They were already together for nearly _five years._ You and I have only known each other for barely one year. We can’t just expect to be _together forever—”_

“Why _not?”_ Kakashi cries. “Why are you talking like it’s impossible for us to last?”

“Because I don’t want to lie to myself and pretend like everything’s going to be okay as soon as we run away with each other,” Obito tells him, his voice cracking as he stares bitterly down at the ground. “Seeing my mom now, hearing how absolutely _blind_ her love has made her…I don’t want us to end up like that. She’s so _pathetic,_ Kakashi. I don’t want to be like her. Or like him. Any of them. They hurt so many people in the process. They hurt _each other._ I just don’t want to risk everything and get hurt in the end.”

Kakashi struggles for his words, his own emotions beginning to truly take over as his body begins to tremble. “You’re…you’re talking like you’re about to leave me…like we’re going to break up _tomorrow.”_ Kakashi’s own eyes begin to water at the thought, his breaths shaky and weak as he musters up the strength to speak. “How can you say such things? How can you not believe in _us?_ I’ve tried so hard, fighting against my _own_ insecurities, trying my absolute best to ignore what everyone else has to say about us for _you,_ thinking that if _you_ didn’t care, _I_ wouldn’t care, too. But now you’re telling me that you don’t believe in us _either?”_ Kakashi steps back, unable to control himself as his own tears begin to slip down his cheeks. “You promised me, Obito. You promised me we’d leave together—”

“I _know_ what I promised you,” Obito breathes, and he sounds so torn, so broken and torn. “But it’s too far away, too unrealistic. We’ve known each other for a year, been together for even _less._ How can we plan the future like this? We’re too _young,_ we’re too stupid.” Obito’s fists clench at his sides. _“How can we even be sure that this is love?”_

Kakashi stares at Obito, lips parted in an expression of absolute shock and betrayal.

_How can they be sure?_

The very question that keeps him up every night spoken out loud by the very person he chose to believe in.

Kakashi could feel his heart breaking as the tears flowed freely from his eyes, his vision becoming blurry as he shakes his head deliriously. “Don’t say that, _please_ don’t say that,” he begs, voice trembling through his heavy sobs. _“I love you._ I love you so much. I love you _far too much.”_ Obito’s eyes seem to soften in regret, but when he reaches forward, Kakashi backs away. “I love you far too much for my own good, and I know it. So please… _please_ don’t ever say anything like that ever again. I don’t care if you don’t know…I don’t care if you think that what you feel _isn’t_ love, but please don’t ever fucking think that what _I_ feel for you isn’t.” Kakashi can taste his tears, but he does not bother to wipe them away. “I _know_ I love you, because only _love_ could hurt this damn much.”

Months of pain seem to pile on Kakashi all at the once, every torturous whisper hissing into his ear, affirming his doubts and taunting his misery. His skin burns as tears continue to pour from his eyes, but this time, when Obito reaches out to hold him once more, he feels too weak to step away.

“Kakashi,” Obito murmurs, and his voice is filled with remorse. “I’m sorry…”

Kakashi gives him a tearful look. _“Please_ don’t ever say anything like that again,” Kakashi begs him, his voice barely above a whisper. “I love you, I love you _so_ much. _Too much.”_ More and more tears cling to Kakashi’s lashes, dripping one by one. “I can’t imagine myself without you…and for you to doubt that…to believe that I could ever stop loving you…” Kakashi is unable to hold any part of himself back any longer, a soft cry escaping his lips as he wraps his arms desperately around Obito’s neck, unwilling to let go, the tremble of his fingers reflecting his fear that if he did, Obito would never return. “Please, _please,_ don’t ever say anything like that _ever_ again. I don’t know what’ll happen between us in the future, but I know that I’ll _always_ love you. And I don’t care if I’m young and stupid and crazy and _ill._ I don’t care if you’re young and stupid and prideful, I don’t care if we’re hated by the entire _world! I believe in you._ And I’m _trying to believe in us._ So please don’t say these things ever again, because I want to believe,” he sobs. _“I have to.”_

Obito’s own eyes begin to moisten once more, stunned by Kakashi’s words as he silently holds him close.

_I believe in you._

He blinks the sting of his own tears away as he slowly brushes his fingers through Kakashi’s hair.

_He believes in Kakashi, too._

Obito brings his hands up, cupping Kakashi’s cheeks delicately and coaxing him to look up into his eyes. Their gazes meet in tandem, and Obito gives him a small, watery smile. “You really are all I have left,” he breathes. Another tear slips from the corner of Kakashi’s eyes, and Obito carefully leans in, softly sealing their lips together, their hearts stirring to the same rhythm.

Kakashi kisses him back breathlessly, fingers threading through Obito’s hair almost desperately. His body shivers when Obito’s hands trail to his hips, pulling him closer, flush against his own, so anchored, so secure. Kakashi parts his lips, yearning to taste Obito, to feel him in any way possible in order to assure himself that Obito is _here,_ that he is _real,_ that he is _still_ by his side.

Obito pushes forward, and Kakashi loses his balance as he is led backwards, falling onto his bed with a soft gasp. The sheets welcome them, further heating their flushed skin as Obito crawls over him, pressing their bodies together in a way that takes Kakashi’s breath away. Kakashi writhes, impassioned, his fingers dragging their desire across Obito’s back, legs sliding apart as Obito moves against him.

 _“I love you,”_ the words escape Kakashi before he realizes it, and Obito rolls his hips so heavenly it enraptures him, eyes glossing over like glass as the promise slips from his lips over and over again. “I love you, I love you, I love you _so much,”_ he breathes out as if he knew nothing else, and Obito leans down, his own breath ghosting over Kakashi’s skin for just a second before he locks their lips together, their hearts stirring with their growing passions.

When they part, there are fresh tears coating Kakashi’s cheeks, and Obito pauses to delicately swipe them away. Kakashi feels his cheeks warm in slight embarrassment when Obito gives him another small, fond smile before lifting his hips against the older male’s, a silent plea for more, and Obito complies.

Obito moves to Kakashi’s neck, feathery kisses drawing soft moans from Kakashi’s lips as Obito gently pushes his boyfriend’s trembling legs further apart. Kakashi’s fingers tug at the fabric of Obito’s shirt in need, panting ardently as their movements gradually become more fervid. Obito lets out a sharp exhale, and he reaches back to roughly pull his shirt over his head, tossing the garment off to the side before crushing his lips against Kakashi’s once more.

Kakashi’s nails shakily trail up Obito’s exposed back, leaving little scratches in their wake, memorizing every dip and curve. Obito pulls away, placing his hands on either side of Kakashi’s head, gazing down at the boy underneath him through lidded eyes, looking as if he wanted to say a million things all at once but could not find the right words to truly express them. Kakashi swallows as he stares back up at Obito, mesmerized by the sight, and he reaches up to gently touch Obito’s chest, the bare skin above his heart rising and falling rapidly under Kakashi’s fingertips. 

Obito lets out a low groan as Kakashi’s hands trail lower, their gazes never parting as his fingers graze the button of his jeans. His head drops into Kakashi’s shoulder in an attempt to maintain his self-control as Kakashi picks the button apart, slowly unzipping the fabric and pushing them down his hips. Obito kicks his jeans away before tracing his hands up Kakashi’s bare legs, fingers sliding underneath the shorts and teasing his inner thighs. Kakashi releases a breathy whine before shimmying out of his shorts, the pair joining Obito’s scattered clothes on the floor.

Obito’s hands travel to the edge of Kakashi’s sweater, eager to see more when Kakashi’s own hand settles over his, stopping him with an almost bashful smile. Confusion crosses Obito’s eyes for just a moment, but Kakashi pulls him down for another kiss before he can voice it, and he loses himself in the feeling of Kakashi’s lips softly melding against his.

They part once more, gazes locking as Obito takes a second to admire the delicate pink on Kakashi’s cheeks and his reddened lips. Kakashi gives Obito another breathtaking smile despite the tearstains on his cheeks, one so filled with love and affection that Obito vaguely wonders what had made him doubt him – or _them_ – in the first place. Obito breathes out another quiet apology, pressing a chaste kiss against Kakashi’s forehead before freeing them of their underwear and reaching over into the bedside drawer.

Kakashi licks his lips before biting down on the sleeve of his sweater, eyes tearing up as Obito begins to work him open. He tries his best to suppress his whimpers, far too aware that his uncle is in the other room. Sleeping, maybe, but Kakashi doesn’t want to risk waking him up anyways, concentrating instead on the feeling of Obito’s lips against his neck, breath hot and welcomed against flushed skin.

“Obito, _please,”_ Kakashi whispers when he’s ready, Obito giving him a low hum of understanding in response. Seconds pass before Kakashi feels Obito push into him once more, and Kakashi slowly unravels against the sheets, a breathy call of Obito’s name escaping his parted lips.

The sight alone is enticing enough, Obito’s pupils dilating with desire as he watches the way Kakashi trembles against the sheets, listening as his airy moans fill the dark room. Obito reaches down to hold Kakashi’s waist, a strained cry suddenly erupting from his boyfriend’s lips, and Obito immediately stops in his movements, the two remaining completely still as they listen for any sounds outside of the door.

Seconds pass in utter silence before Obito carefully places his hands on either side of Kakashi’s head, staring down at him in concern. Unshed tears brim the lashes of Kakashi’s eyes, but he nods, and Obito moves again, rolling his hips in a slow but steady rhythm, watching longingly as Kakashi muffles his moans against the sleeves of his sweater.

Kakashi shakily pulls his legs up to his chest as he slips in and out of dream and reality, reveling in the divine feeling Obito bathes him in as they move as one. The bed rocking beneath them is almost dizzying, the sheets sticking to the nape of his neck as he leans up to capture Obito’s lips in a kiss that singes their tongues. Kakashi can feel Obito within every inch of his body in their position, overwhelmed with color and heat, the temptation to cry out in bliss spoiled only by their delicate situation. Kakashi maintains his quiet breaths of affection instead and avidly matches Obito’s movements, his skin flushing in ecstasy at the searing sensations.

Obito’s eyes meet Kakashi’s once more, and he loses himself in their warmth, wavering obsidian whispering a thousand words, a thousand promises that Obito cannot dare to look away from. It fills him with his own share, and suddenly he is unable to hold himself back as he grabs Kakashi’s hands and intertwines their fingers, pressing him further into the bed and thrusting deep into him. Kakashi finds it almost impossible to stay quiet now, unable to resist the taste of Obito’s name as it rolls off his tongue.

Fire begins to sear through Obito’s skin as he listens to Kakashi’s mewls, a paradise built purely on the soft sounds of his lover’s pleasure pushing him towards the brink of his control. Obito kisses Kakashi once more, breathing him in, the silent promise of the _forever_ he so deeply feared suddenly becoming so wonderful, so beautiful, so _right._ It’s rejuvenating, reawakening that hope Obito thought he had lost so long ago, and he expresses his resolve through the thorough roll of his hips, Kakashi arching desperately against the sheets in response.

Kakashi can feel himself losing his grip on reality, fingers tightening against Obito’s as his heart beats erratically in his chest. _“Obito,”_ he gasps out, twisting against the sheets as his boyfriend picks up his pace, senses dripping in absolute ecstasy. Kakashi slips away from the limitations of time, succumbing completely to Obito’s touch, relishing in the feeling of Obito’s breaths against his skin.

Obito presses Kakashi further into the bed, lightly biting down on Kakashi’s lip before kissing him once more. _“I love you,”_ Obito whispers against his sweetened skin. “I love you _so fucking much,”_ he says, and he means it, he truly means it. Obito doesn’t care if it’s the moment or the high, he doesn’t care if his heart hurts or his eyes swell from tears, he doesn’t care if he’s young, he doesn’t care if he’s stupid, he doesn’t care if the entire world screams and stands against them.

 _He loves Kakashi_. Obito decides from then on that he never wants to be apart from the one person who has never left his side. The one person he knows will never leave his side. He is determined to stay with him, determined to be with Kakashi in every way possible, because Obito knows that there’s no one else he’d rather have, no one else he’d rather lose himself in, no one else he’d rather _believe in._

Kakashi’s eyes are misty by the end of the night, skin wonderfully sensitive as he curls into Obito’s side. Their hearts settle in tandem, the sweater unbearably hot against his chest, but he finds that he doesn’t care. Kakashi doesn’t care anymore. He doesn’t care for being afraid, he doesn’t care for doubting himself, doesn’t care for stumbling over his words and crying over things that aren’t really there. He doesn’t care anymore, only because he has Obito. Because Obito is safe, definite, and _real,_ and so is Kakashi’s ceaseless love for him.

The rain outside dwindles to a soft drizzle. Stars begin to peek between the faint breaks of the clouds, and they twinkle in their final hours of the night. Obito and Kakashi share one last kiss before their eyes slowly close, wrapped in each other’s warmth as the sky gradually dips into dawn. Kakashi forgets what it’s like to fear his nightmares as he sleeps soundly for the first time in weeks, and for once, Obito finally feels as if he’s found his home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again for all of the support, I really appreciate it <3


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Self harm

When Obito opens his eyes, the world seems to surround him in a haze of whitened gold. Dust floats through the faint light and settles gently against the window ledge, coating the surface in an almost featherlike glaze. His eyes drift towards the glistening windowpane, remnants of the midnight storm in the form of crystal beads clinging against the sheet of glass. The clouds decorate the sky with silver, humbling the sun’s morning glow as the streets rumble to life just below. Obito blinks blearily, fingers brushing lazily through his hair as he takes in his surroundings, the white bed sheets illuminated by the light of dawn.

A soft sigh pulls Obito from his daze, warm breath brushing against the skin of his neck, sending shivers down his spine. Obito’s gaze shifts to his right, heart immediately fluttering in his chest at the sight of Kakashi sleeping quietly beside him, expression soothed of any frowns, a look of absolute peace in his settled lashes instead. Obito feels his own features soften, his heart refusing to tame its butterflies as he listens to Kakashi’s calming breaths, watching the way his chest rises and falls gently beneath the sheets.

Obito’s smile is warm as he gazes intently at Kakashi, trying his best to memorize every little detail of his lover’s face, from the shape of his lips to the tiny mole on his chin, deciding right then and there that this is the one sight he never wants to forget. He wants to wake up to Kakashi’s warmth, to his presence beside him, to hold Kakashi close every morning as the hours dwindle by, time losing its meaning as they stare deeply into each other’s eyes. Obito feels as if _this_ is where he’s meant to be, right by Kakashi’s side, snuggled in each other’s arms as if nothing in the world could tear them apart.

Obito’s arm begins to feel a bit numb, and he shifts a bit, eyes never leaving Kakashi’s face as he settles back against the pillow. Kakashi begins to stir from the movement, head lulling as a soft sigh escapes his lips. A small smile makes its way onto Obito’s face at the endearing sight, his heart picking up in his chest. “Good morning,” Obito greets him, his voice barely above a whisper as Kakashi slowly wakens, watching contentedly as his boyfriend’s eyes sleepily blink into focus, the light blanketing his soft cheeks under a mellow haze.

Kakashi lets out a small yawn, eyes glistening with morning dew as he slowly meets Obito’s tender gaze. “Your breath stinks,” Kakashi teases him as he gives Obito a lazy smile, fingers reaching out to carefully trace his jaw.

Obito scoffs back, playfully biting down on Kakashi’s finger with a shake of his head. “So does yours.” Kakashi stifles a small laugh, pulling his hand back and pressing a soft kiss against the tip of Obito’s nose. “Sleep well?” Obito asks, unable to take his eyes off of the way Kakashi’s eyes curl when he smiles, how his cheeks lift with glee.

Kakashi nods his head, a soft sigh of content escaping his lips as he settles himself closer to Obito’s warmth. “I didn’t dream last night,” he says almost wondrously, affection in his tender gaze.

Obito raises an eyebrow, a bit bemused. “Is that a good thing?”

Kakashi hums. “I only ever dream in nightmares anymore, so to not dream at all…” Kakashi’s lips curl into another smile, “it’s a wonderful thing.”

Obito smiles back, pulling Kakashi closer and pressing his lips against his forehead. “I’m glad,” he whispers as he brushes back Kakashi’s bangs, admiring the glow that seems to emanate from his milky skin.

They lie there in silence for a little while, merely staring at each other through the faint light of the morning. Obito feels as if he’s falling more and more in love with Kakashi with every breath, certain now that love truly is what he feels for the boy in his arms, for the person who still manages to make his heart race with his presence alone. It’s a thought that still scares a good part of him, but he chooses to not give in to his doubts. He chooses to believe in Kakashi instead.

“It’s Saturday,” Kakashi suddenly says, breaking Obito from his thoughts, and he blinks back at him in question. There’s a sparkle in Kakashi’s eyes as he gives Obito a playful grin. “Let’s do things.”

“Things?” Obito repeats in amusement.

“Yeah,” Kakashi says with a giggle. “Like fun and stupid things.”

Obito snorts. “Sorry,” he drawls, finding Kakashi’s smile the prettiest thing he’s seen in a while, “but I kind of don’t want to leave this bed. Ever.” His hand trails down to Kakashi’s backside, a suggestive smirk on his lips as Kakashi merely rolls his eyes.

“Come on,” Kakashi whines, pouting slightly as he speaks, “when was the last time we did anything together? Anything fun and stupid, I mean?”

“Uhm…Never?”

“Exactly!” Kakashi says, suddenly pulling away from Obito’s hold to sit up against the headboard. Obito lets out a low groan, lazily lifting himself up as well. “Let’s do something together now! Please?” Kakashi insists as he grasps Obito’s arm, batting his eyelashes pleadingly, lower lip pushed out in another little pout.

Obito stares at Kakashi for a moment before letting out a laugh. “Wow, you’re trying to be cute with me now?” Kakashi crosses his eyes and puffs his cheeks out in an exaggerated manner, and Obito gives him an amused grin. “Sorry, baby, but that isn’t going to work on me.”

Kakashi sneers, though he seems equally amused. “You’re just an asshole. I should throw you out on the streets.”

“Alright, fine,” Obito finally relents, scratching the back of his neck as he shuffles over Kakashi to stumble out of bed. “Where do you want to go?” Obito asks, grabbing his shirt from the ground and pulling it over his head. “I’ll take you anywhere you want, you giant baby.”

Kakashi’s eyes follow Obito’s form as he dresses. “…You’re the baby here, only wanting to stay in bed,” he says, cheeks flushing ever so slightly.

Obito glances over his shoulder. “Stop watching me, you pervert.”

Kakashi huffs. “Fuck off,” he groans when Obito lets out a laugh, ears red as he grabs a pillow and hurls it towards Obito’s back. “You’re an even bigger asshole now.”

“Hey, _I’m_ actually getting ready to go out and do something _fun_ and _stupid_ or whatever,” Obito says, wagging his finger at Kakashi chidingly. “What about you? I don’t see _you_ getting ready. Are you just going to run around town in your little sweater and shorts?”

Kakashi lets out a scoff, sliding out of bed petulantly and heading towards his closet. “You’re not going anywhere like that,” he utters, pulling out a hoodie and some sweatpants before tossing the items towards Obito’s face. “Go take a shower, dumbass. Those clothes look like you haven’t washed them in _days.”_

“Oh, I didn’t realize we were going somewhere fancy today,” Obito remarks, hanging the clothes over his arms as he gives his boyfriend a cheeky grin. Kakashi only rolls his eyes in response. “Where do you want to go, anyways? There aren’t very many places to go to around here.”

“…I don’t know,” Kakashi murmurs, biting his lip in thought for a moment before his eyes seem to light up in realization. “Let’s go on a date somewhere!” he says, eyes filled with excitement. “Like a café or movie or something like that.”

Obito raises an eyebrow. “A date?” he echoes, and Kakashi nods enthusiastically. “What are you, gay?”

Kakashi’s smile drops instantly, and he lets out a scoff. “Honestly, Obito? Fuck you.” There’s amusement in his eyes despite his words, and Obito lets out another laugh before finally deciding to relent on his teasing.

“Alright, sorry, let’s go on a date,” Obito gives in with a slight smirk. “There’s, like, one decent breakfast place around here. We can head over there for our little date.”

Kakashi hums, sorting through his closet once more. “Go shower, then, you prick. You stink.” Obito doesn’t move, and Kakashi glances back over at him in question. “What?”

Obito blinks at him innocently. “Aren’t you going to come with me?”

_ “What?”  _ Kakashi splutters, and Obito laughs at the way he flushes. “Of course not! My uncle is still home, you idiot!”

“Oh? You didn’t seem to care about that last night,” Obito teases, staring pointedly at Kakashi’s disheveled appearance, the other teen letting out an embarrassed scoff.

“If you don’t take that damn shower, Uchiha Obito, I swear—”

Obito laughs, waving his hand dismissively as he heads for the door. “Alright, alright, I’m going, I’m going,” he says, shoulders relaxed as he finally takes his leave. Kakashi mumbles something incoherently beneath his breath, shaking his head at Obito’s antics before turning towards his closet once more. Obito stops at the doorway, taking one last glance back at Kakashi, watching as his boyfriend shuffles through his wardrobe, an almost comically frustrated look in his eyes as he digs through the pile of clothes in the corner of his messy closet.

Obito suddenly finds his heart fluttering at the thought of spending the entire day with Kakashi despite the worries and pain that still ache in his shoulders. He still feels sorrow and remorse as a consequence of his father’s death and aggravation with his current position with his family, but spending the day with Kakashi, Obito decides, is a good distraction from all of his worries. Obito knows it isn’t permanent, but it doesn’t have to be. Obito had missed being with Kakashi, lazing around in his car during lunch at school or messing around on the roof of the apartment. It’s been a long time since he had last sat down with Kakashi alone, free of worries, free of anxieties and heartache and feelings of regret. Obito wishes for that change of pace, and he smiles softly to himself before exiting the room to take that damn shower Kakashi wanted so badly.

—

The breakfast place they end up going to is a small, hole-in-the-wall type of place, but it still manages to feel cozy, in a way. It seems to be quite popular with the elderly, and business feels rather slow for a Saturday morning edging towards noon, but Kakashi likes it that way. He never did like crowded places, and the food is surprisingly good. Kakashi, to his own amusement, finds that Obito sticks out like a sore thumb in this place with that idle scowl that always seems to be on his face, unintentionally intimidating their soft-spoken waitress who had greeted them that morning. Kakashi briefly wonders if Obito even notices things like that at all.

It’s an amusing thought to contemplate, and Kakashi finishes his sandwich with a soft sigh before peering over at his untouched latte with a faint smile on his lips. The foam is curled into little leaflets in the cup, steam drifting from the hot liquid with a hazelnut aroma that lightens his senses.

“Are you going to drink that or are you just going to keep staring at it?” Obito asks with a smug grin before sipping at a spoonful of soup. Kakashi rolls his eyes, ignoring his boyfriend’s comment to instead pull his phone out and snap a picture of the latte art. “Oh, a picture? What filter are you going to use?”

“Will you shut up?” Kakashi says with a groan, pocketing his phone and fixing Obito with a light glare. Obito has yet to truly stop his dumb jokes. Though it is a good thing, Kakashi supposes. A joking Obito is a relaxed Obito, something that Kakashi is sure Obito rarely feels nowadays. Still, that didn’t change the fact that his jokes were just as annoying as ever. “Jesus, this is supposed to be a date, but all you’ve done is make fun of me.”

Obito lets out a laugh, sliding his now empty bowl of soup to the side. “Aw, sorry, baby. Am I being too big of a meanie for you?”

“Quit calling me that, jackass,” Kakashi retorts, cringing a bit at the tiny _coo’s_ Obito releases. “You suck at dating.”

“Sorry, I’m not really used to this,” Obito says with feigned sincerity. “I’ve never dated a _baby_ before.”

Kakashi lets out another groan. “Shut up. _You’re_ a baby.”

“Whatever you say, babe,” Obito hums, sporting that same annoying smile that burns Kakashi’s eyes. Kakashi flips him off before lifting his cup to his lips and taking a tentative sip. A few minutes pass as Kakashi sips his coffee, Obito busying himself with his phone before he decides to speak again. “Where do you want to go after this?” Obito asks him, and Kakashi only shrugs his shoulders. “You don’t know? I thought you wanted to do something _fun_ and _stupid_ together?”

“Yeah, well, I’m starting to rethink that idea since you’ve been being such a little shit this morning,” Kakashi remarks plainly, and Obito lets out another annoying laugh. “I don’t really care where we go,” Kakashi softly admits after a moment, placing his cup back onto the table. “I’ll be happy as long as I’m with you.”

Obito smiles, his cheeks warming slightly from the sentiment. “How cheesy,” he says despite his blush, and Kakashi rolls his eyes again.

They fall quiet again as Kakashi finishes his coffee, releasing a satisfied sigh and wiping his lips with a napkin. Obito glances at him, looking as if he is about to say something when their waitress comes by with their bill. Kakashi quietly thanks her before incidentally meeting Obito’s eyes. “Looks like they want us to leave,” he jokes, tapping his fingers against the table. “It’s okay, I want us to leave, too.”

Kakashi feels like his eyes will fall out at the rate he keeps rolling them with. He reads over their bill momentarily before reaching into his pocket for his wallet. The neutral expression he had been sporting immediately vanishes into one of disbelief as he pats himself down, finding nothing but lint and a single, worthless coin. He glances back up at Obito with bewildered eyes.

Obito raises an eyebrow at his almost embarrassed expression. “What’s wrong?”

“I…uh…” Kakashi bites his lip, a sheepish look on his face. “I…don’t think I brought my wallet with me.”

Obito stares dumbly at Kakashi for a moment before letting out a snort, reaching into his own pockets, only to freeze when he realizes that he’s wearing _Kakashi’s sweatpants,_ and he had left his _own_ wallet in his own jeans. _Which were still in Kakashi’s bedroom._ Obito swallows awkwardly before meeting Kakashi’s knowing gaze, the two of them staring stupidly at each other as they both seem to realize their fate. 

“What do we do?” Kakashi whispers, glancing back at their waitress who is tending a table not too far away.

Obito sucks in a breath, taking the bill from Kakashi and skimming it over. “It…doesn’t cost that much…” he trails off at the end, eyes meeting Kakashi’s once more, the same idea seeming to cross their minds at the same time. “Let’s go,” he says, and Kakashi immediately nods, pushing himself onto his feet without another word. Obito does the same, sweating a bit as he sets the bill back down on the table and turns to leave, only to meet eyes with that of another waitress just across the room.

Realization seems to hit the worker as she watches Kakashi collect his things. “Hey—” she calls out, but Obito grabs Kakashi’s hand, pulling him towards the exit and forcing himself through the door. They begin to speed-walk down the sidewalk, and it isn’t until Obito hears the waitress’ shouts from behind that his heart begins to pick up.

“Run,” Obito breathes, glancing back briefly at the worker who appears to have called her manager, a man exiting the restaurant and glaring over at them. “Run!” Obito repeats, tone tinged with adrenaline as they dash down the street, pushing past men and women and bursting between crowds of families and couples, hands still held firmly together. A car blares its horn at them as they run across an intersection, and Obito can hear Kakashi’s trickling laughter just behind him.

They finally reach the street on which Obito had parked, the two struggling to catch their breaths as men and women continue to send them dirty looks from all around. Obito meets Kakashi’s eyes, moistened by the cold, the same look of awe in their gazes at what they had just done. Before he knows it, the two of them are laughing out loud in the middle of the sidewalk, disturbing even more passerbys who regard them with looks of disgust.

“I can’t believe we _both_ forgot our wallets,” Kakashi says breathlessly as they settle into Obito’s car. “I don’t think we’ll be able to show our faces at that restaurant for a very long time,” he adds in amusement. “We’re such _assholes.”_

“Yeah, well, that’s how everyone already sees us, so,” Obito remarks with a shrug of nonchalance. “So what’s new, honestly?”

“You’re right,” Kakashi agrees, finding that they didn’t have much to lose in terms of reputation anymore anyways. Kakashi’s sure that most of the town can vaguely recall him as the kid who had lost it in the middle of the streets, and he is absolutely positive that people easily recognize Obito’s face from the newspapers. They really are quite the infamous pair, both in school and a bit out of it as well. But what could they, _the town,_ do to them anyways? _Talk?_ That’s all this town ever does. _Talk._ “Let’s get out of here,” Kakashi says a bit breathlessly, voice laced with glee as he grabs Obito’s hand in excitement. “Let’s go far and never come back.”

Obito’s eyebrows rise in interest. “Never come back?” he echoes, curiosity in his tone as his own eyes glint with a sense of anticipation. “Where would we go?”

“I don’t know, I don’t care, and you know what I mean,” Kakashi replies, excitement evident in the way his hold on Obito’s hand tightens. “Let’s just get lost somewhere, _anywhere,_ as long as we’re lost together.”

Obito stares back at Kakashi for a moment, a bit awed by the colorful words before he lets out another laugh, pulling his hand out of Kakashi’s grasp to start the car. “Let’s go, then,” he says, his own heart beginning to race in a juvenile-like glee. It’s a feeling that he hasn’t felt in forever, and the thought fills his stomach with butterflies as he pulls the car out of its parking spot, gaze landing on the road to nowhere but everywhere all at the same time.

—

Obito feels as if he’s high as they soar down the road.

Obito isn’t sure how long or how far they have driven, field after field their only company, the world seeming so big outside but so small within the privacy of his car. Their hands are locked together over the console, Kakashi’s hand warm and snug in his, filling the space perfectly between his fingers.

Obito can’t think of another moment better than this. He feels so _liberated,_ so wonderfully foolish and free, almost as if all of his worries had dispersed through the exhaust pipe of his car as they continue to speed down the road, lines and dashes of yellow streaming past them. The sun bathes them in an afternoon glow despite the dampened asphalt, and his grip on Kakashi’s hand tightens ever so slightly.

“Hey, Obito?” Kakashi says suddenly, and Obito hums in question, eyes focused on the road. “I love you.”

Obito can’t help how quickly his smile spreads across his face or the way his heart immediately warms in his chest. “Hey, Kakashi?” he says.

“Yeah?”

“I love you, too.”

Kakashi’s own smile is pleased, eyes drifting over to the window momentarily before landing on Obito again. “Hey, Obito?”

“Yes?”

“I love you,” Kakashi says again, and Obito snorts at the stupidity, but he decides to play along anyways.

“I love you, too,” Obito answers breezily.

“Hey, Obito?”

He lets out a dramatic sigh, sending Kakashi a knowing smile. “Yes, Kakashi?”

“I love you,” Kakashi finishes, blinking innocently back. “Like a lot.”

“I can tell,” Obito says, amusement in his tone. “And I love you a little.”

Kakashi lets out a childish huff. “Well, _a_ _little_ isn’t enough.”

Obito shrugs his shoulders. “I’d love you more if you took your feet off the dash.”

Kakashi wiggles his socked toes, a smug grin on his lips. “Then I guess you’ll only love me a little.”

Obito shakes his head fondly as Kakashi relaxes back against his seat, obliging to Obito’s request anyways, feet settling back on the ground. A few minutes pass by as they sit in silence, the music their only company, the sky lighting their path ahead. Kakashi squeezes his hand, and Obito squeezes back. Kakashi squeezes again, and Obito squeezes back. They continue to play this little game until Kakashi lets go of his hand, sticking his tongue out at the older male’s pout before pulling his phone out and checking his notifications.

“What time is it?” Obito decides to ask, blinking in an effort to maintain his attention span as they continue to drive down an endless and empty road. He slows down a bit, taking a moment to glance out at the fields around them as Kakashi clicks his tongue.

“It’s almost 3,” he answers.

“We should head back soon, then,” Obito says, and Kakashi only hums. Obito glances back over at his boyfriend for a moment, the other seemingly occupied with his phone, a nail between his teeth as he reads over whatever it is that’s displayed on the screen.

Obito drapes his hands over the steering wheel, squinting his eyes at the sign up ahead to find a place where he can turn back around. He feels a brush against his leg and glances back at Kakashi again, the other’s eyes still trained on his phone, but a ghost of a smile hangs on his lips. Obito raises an eyebrow in slight interest before cracking his knuckles over the wheel and staring forward once more. Kakashi sets his hand on Obito’s leg again, more obviously this time, fingers walking up the length of his thigh in a tantalizing manner.

Obito places his own hand over Kakashi’s, squeezing it before slowing down the car and pulling over to the side of the road, a knowing look in his eyes as the car comes to a stop by the edge of a field. “You trying to crash us, baby?” he says, tilting his head to the side and peering up at Kakashi through his lashes.

Kakashi rolls his eyes, taking his hand back. “I was actually trying to do something else, but…” he trails off at the end, opening the door beside him and stepping outside. “It’s actually not that cold out today,” he says, sticking his head back into the car with sparkling eyes. “Let’s go!”

Obito glances over. “We’re going to run around in a field now?” he questions with an eyebrow raised. Kakashi only shrugs his shoulders, spreading his arms out as he feels the wind brush against his sweater. Obito lets out a sigh, relenting to Kakashi’s antics and opening the door beside him. “You’re not going to put your shoes back on?” Obito teases as he steps out of the car, breathing in the fresh air with a sigh of content.

Kakashi peers at him from across the roof of the car, head tilted to the side as he smiles. “I don’t need them,” he lilts as Obito joins him, the two automatically holding hands as they walk off into the field before them.

Grass brush against their ankles, still a little damp from the storm the previous night. Obito cringes a little, thinking of Kakashi’s socked feet that are undoubtedly soaked by now, but one look at Kakashi tells Obito that he doesn’t mind at all. Obito smiles a little to himself, always finding Kakashi so strange yet so beautiful at the same time. It’s a weird sentiment, he knows, but it’s one of his favorite things about Kakashi. He’s so beautifully unique, and Obito knows that there is no one else like him, no one else who can compare to him.

Kakashi tugs at his hand, and Obito takes the time to admire Kakashi’s profile, how his eyes twinkle with emotion, his expressions always telling a thousand words, even when his own voice fails to speak. Kakashi’s features are softened by the afternoon light, and for a moment, Obito becomes overwhelmed with gratitude. He remembers the previous night, Kakashi’s heart wrenching confession, how their shared breaths filled the air with promises, and how nothing else in the world felt so right like it did whenever he was with Kakashi. He is so unbelievably grateful to have Kakashi by his side, knowing that he truly would have lost it had it not been for his comforting touch, his warm and sincere heart.

Obito remembers his parents’ words and what they both had to say about love. He thinks about it for a moment, wonders what he would do if he and Kakashi were ever put in a similar situation. Obito isn’t sure what he would do, a million possibilities with their millions of scenarios playing about in his head. _Love,_ it truly is a scary thing, he thinks. Something almost purely based on instinct in a sense, at least how it seemed to play out with his parents.

Obito opens his mouth as if to say something when Kakashi suddenly turns around, throwing himself into Obito’s arms in a fit of childish giggles, his hair tickling Obito’s chin as Kakashi tucks his head in his shoulder. Obito stumbles back, a bit dumbfounded by the sudden attack before his expression melts into a smile. He holds Kakashi close, breathing in his lover’s scent with a soft sigh of content. Love can make one foolish and irrational, he realizes, but it could also be extremely gratifying. Especially on days like this.

_ What a complicated thing, _ Obito thinks, but he decides that he doesn’t want to think about it anymore. He doesn’t want to think about love in case he overthinks it. He only wants to feel it.

“Hey, Kakashi?” Obito says, Kakashi’s hum soft enough for only him to hear. The world is big, expanding too far and too wide to touch. Even now in this field, there is no one else around to hear them, yet Kakashi is there in his arms, speaking only to him, listening only to him. In this moment, it’s only them, only the two of them against all odds. “I love you,” Obito whispers as he presses his lips against Kakashi’s head. “Like a lot.”

“Oh, really?” Kakashi says as he looks up, giving Obito another cheeky smile.

“Yes, really,” Obito answers sincerely, gazing back with curled eyes. “What about you?”

“Hmm,” Kakashi hums, lips pursed as if in thought. “I’ll have to think about it,” he finishes with a teasing laugh.

“Hmm,” Obito mimics, a devious look in his eyes, “think faster.” He then tackles Kakashi to the ground, the younger letting out a yelp as they fall unceremoniously into the grass.

Obito draws their lips together, impassioned, Kakashi’s body relaxing under his as the two indulge themselves in their soft kiss. His fingers interlock with Kakashi’s, locking him in place, their bodies warming despite the chilly breezes of autumn, and he feels as if they’re floating on air.

When they part, Obito can taste hints of coffee on his tongue. “I can’t think with you on me like this,” Kakashi says breathlessly, eyes dazed as he gazes back at Obito.

“Oh?” Obito grins smugly. “Should I stop, then?”

“…No,” Kakashi murmurs before leaning up for another kiss, but Obito turns his head away teasingly, Kakashi letting out a whine in response. _“More,”_ he demands, squirming beneath Obito with a frustrated pout. 

“More?” Obito repeats in amusement, cocking his head to the side. “Out here?”

Kakashi only shrugs before staring deeply into Obito’s eyes, a coy look in his own. “How else are we going to stay warm?”

Obito blinks in surprise for a moment, a bit caught off guard with the answer before he lets out a laugh, smile filled with affection. “I can think of plenty of other ways to stay warm, but yeah, you’re right.” He leans down, brushing his lips against Kakashi’s and relishing in the way he melts under his touch. “I like this idea more.”

Kakashi makes the most beautiful sounds as they lose themselves in the grass, and Obito learns to give up on thought and act only on passion, because with Kakashi, he did not need to think. He only needed to love, _love_ the boy who brings him happiness even through the pain, love the boy who cries and fights to keep him anchored, love the boy who continues to believe in him despite the world stripping their odds bare, pulling their hopes apart and tearing their hearts like they’re made of paper. Life is unfair to people like them, and it’s easy to overthink his burdens in life, to blame them on himself and strain his shoulders with a load of pain, deserved or undeserved, it makes no difference. It’s harder to not think, harder to only feel, to only _love._ But _with Kakashi,_ Obito thinks, _with Kakashi, it’s a little easier._

—

It’s almost 6 by the time they make it back to Kakashi’s home. The sun had already begun to set and the air suddenly became too cold for their sweaters, but Kakashi swings their held hands like they’re frolicking through a field of flowers, and Obito's heart swells with affection as he lets Kakashi pull him to the back of the shop. There’s a certain bounce in Kakashi’s steps as they bound up to the apartment, and Obito watches him fondly, shaking his head in amusement.

“Satisfied, Kakashi?” he goads as Kakashi begins to unlock the door.

“Very,” Kakashi answers easily, turning back to smile at Obito. “Now that we’re done dating, it’s time for marriage,” he adds with a wink.

“Marriage?” Obito repeats in feigned surprise. “Why, Kakashi, you’re going to have to give me a better proposal than that.”

“Well, what do you want?” Kakashi asks with a hum, a hand to his chin in a contemplative manner. “Moonlit walk on the beach? Sunset on a Ferris wheel? Skinny dipping in a pool?”

“Skinny dipping doesn’t sound so bad,” Obito says with a smirk as he reaches out to pull Kakashi closer. “Are you proposing before or after we strip? I need to be ready. Don’t want to be crying while I’m butt naked.”

Kakashi lets out a laugh, pushing Obito away. “I’ll propose to you while we’re underwater. It’ll be romantic that way, and even if you’re crying, I won’t be able to tell through the water.”

“You better not lose the ring in the water, then,” Obito teases. “I’ll have to end the engagement before it even starts.”

Kakashi scoffs. “Oh, shut up already. I know how _crazy_ you are for me. You’d say yes even if I proposed to you with a rock.”

Obito grins stupidly. “You think my standards are that low?”

“Low enough to wear a rock around your finger for the rest of your life,” Kakashi answers before finally turning back to the door and unlocking it. “It’s okay,” he says, sending Obito a cheeky smile, “I’d wear a rock around my finger for you, too.”

“That’s probably all I can afford anyways,” Obito remarks, sliding his hands over Kakashi’s hips as he opens the door. “What about you? What’s your _dream_ proposal?”

“Maybe skydiving in Hawaii, or bungee jumping in China. Nothing _too_ fancy,” Kakashi replies as they step into the apartment. “And I want you to list every single thing you love about me, starting from the day we first—” Kakashi pauses in his words as he stands stunned in the doorway, Obito bumping into his back from the abrupt stop. His body is rigid, Kakashi’s face suddenly paling as panic takes his eyes.

“Kakashi?” Obito says in confusion, glancing down at the now shaking boy, Kakashi ignoring him and immediately heading towards his bedroom. “Kakashi, what’s wrong?” Obito calls after him, only to notice the garden gnome sitting on the coffee table in the living room all alone, and the door to Kakashi’s room hanging open. The gnome stares back at Obito, its plastic smile almost unsettling in the strange context, but he snaps out of his daze when he hears Kakashi yell for his uncle.

“Uncle!” Kakashi gasps as he stumbles towards his room. “Uncle—”

Kakashi’s uncle steps out from within the depths of Kakashi’s bedroom, his expression contorted in almost frustrated anger as Kakashi immediately backs away in fear. “How long?” his uncle demands suddenly, and Kakashi shakes his head frantically as he continues to back away. “How _long,_ Kakashi?” Obito blinks in confusion, his heart beginning to pick up in his chest as his mind struggles to keep up with the present.

“Uncle, _please—”_ Kakashi shakily begs, his eyes suddenly beginning to water as Obito watches on in bewilderment. _Fast…_ this is all going by so fast. They were just messing around, and Kakashi had seemed so _happy,_ but now he looks as if he’s on the verge of tears. _Fast…too fast._ Obito glances back at the gnome again, its unblinking eyes filling him with unease.

“How long, Kakashi? How long have you been doing this?” his uncle interrogates, his voice rising with every word as Kakashi cowers back. “How long have you been hiding this from me? From _us?”_ Obito blinks at the inclusive word, and his stomach drops with dread.

_ Kakashi’s hiding something from me? _ His mind falters. _Again?_ Obito suddenly is taken back to the principal’s office, to the bathroom, and he hears Genma’s words, remembers the day he first discovered Kakashi’s condition, the conflict, the betrayal he had felt, and then the _shame._ The shame of feeling as if he wasn’t good enough to share in Kakashi’s secrets, as if he wasn’t good enough to be trusted. His hands clench at his sides. Was Kakashi _still_ hiding things from him? Did Kakashi _still_ not trust him?

“No! No, please!” Kakashi shouts, pulling Obito from his thoughts. “Please, no, not in front of Obito, I don’t want him to know!”

Obito blinks, straightening up as his nails dig into the palms of his hands. He can feel his arms tensing as he suppresses his emotions, trying his best to maintain an even voice as he steps in. “What’s going on? What happened?” he demands, feeling lost without any context. Kakashi glances back at him pathetically, his uncle’s eyes flickering from Kakashi’s to Obito’s.

“I’ll show you what’s going on,” Kakashi’s uncle utters before moving past Kakashi, the shaking teen watching helplessly as his uncle grabs the gnome, unscrewing the top and spilling its contents onto the table. Obito watches in shock, too stunned to move as numbers of little white tablets pool onto the surface, toppling over one another and spilling over the edges, bouncing off of the ground like rain.

Silence fills the room as the remaining pills settle in place. Obito suddenly remembers the day Kakashi had told him he loved him, but it had sounded brittle and forced. Two and two come together, and his heart just about shatters into pieces.

Kakashi lets out a loud cry, tears streaming freely from his eyes as he falls to his knees, head hung in absolute shame. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m _sorry,”_ he sobs from the floor, and his uncle drops the emptied gnome onto the ground beside him, an almost lifeless look in the older man’s eyes. “Please forgive me, uncle, _please—”_

“How long have you been doing this?” his uncle asks again, fatigue evident in the strain in his voice, heartbreak clear in his eyes. “And _why?_ Why on earth would you pretend you were taking them?”

Kakashi shakes his head again, words breathy and wracked with his sobs, “Not in front of Obito, _please,_ uncle, not in front of him—” Obito wants to shout, he wants to scream and demand more from Kakashi, but he still cannot move. His blood boils, his breaths thin in his throat as all of the pain, all of the worries and anxieties he had felt seem to flood back in. Except they are focused on Kakashi now, and the pain manifests itself in a deep and pounding ache that tugs at his heart, pulling it in one direction towards the next. It becomes difficult to breathe, and Obito is forced to only watch in stunned silence as Kakashi begs for a way out.

“It’s too late for that, Kakashi!” his uncle exclaims, sounding as if he couldn’t take this anymore. “He’s already here, he already saw, and he was bound to find out one day anyways.” Kakashi lets out another cry, his tears dotting the floor as they drop, eyes blurred as they skim from one neglected tablet to the next. “Get up,” his uncle says with a sigh, and Kakashi shakily pulls himself up from the ground, unable to meet neither Obito nor his uncle’s eyes, shame staining his cheeks as he continues to stare down at his mess, at the plethora of neglected tablets, days and days of _lies._ Days and days of living a nightmare. (But at this point, Kakashi isn’t sure which of his nightmares are worse). “Explain yourself.”

Kakashi does not say anything, tears silently falling from his eyes as he stands, arms holding himself in a protective manner. Obito gazes back down at the tablets scattered across the table, and for a moment, they look as lifeless as the gnome’s eyes.

“Kakashi,” Kakashi’s uncle says again, the boy looking smaller than ever as he finally meets his gaze. _“Please._ Tell me why.” When Kakashi still does not say anything, he tries, “Were they not working?”

Kakashi looks away once more. “They were.”

“Then _why?”_ his uncle pleads, and his own eyes seem to tear up a little as Kakashi’s quiet sniffles resonate throughout the room, the man clearly trying to understand the conflicting teen, but struggling to make sense of it all. “Why would you stop taking your medications? Why would you _pretend_ like you were still taking them?”

Kakashi’s eyes momentarily meet Obito’s before drifting away once more. “I didn’t like what they were doing to me,” he softly admits, voice shaky as he rubbed at his tears, but something tells Obito that it isn’t the full story. “I didn’t feel like myself when I was on them.” Kakashi swallows down a lump in his throat, and the voices he had tried so badly to ignore seem to magnify in his head all at once. _It hurts,_ but so does everything else. 

“What were they doing to you that made you want to stop?” his uncle asks. “How bad could the effects have possibly been if you were willing to quit your meds despite them actually _working_ this time?” 

“I just…I couldn’t _focus,”_ Kakashi tries to explain, eyes watery as his vision blurs, and he fails once more to meet his uncle’s hardened stare. “Or sleep…or think…or…” He bites his lip. “I couldn’t do _anything.”_

“Kakashi, you know you would have gotten over all of those with time,” his uncle tries to reason, but Kakashi shakes his head stubbornly.

“No, it was _different_ this time. I couldn’t feel anything, no matter how badly I tried to. I didn’t… _nothing_ was working out.” Kakashi lets out a shaky breath, his fingers curling in frustration. “I hated it. I hated it _so much.”_ He shakes his head again, covering his face with his hands as he suddenly turns and rushes for the door. “I can’t do this, _I can’t—”_

“Wait, Kakashi!” Kakashi’s uncle grabs his arm before he can leave, and Kakashi gives a loud cry, body seeming to go limp for a moment as he stumbles to the ground, his uncle immediately releasing his grip, eyes widened in bewilderment. Kakashi scrambles backwards, holding himself in a protective manner, eyes filling with tears of pain once more. Obito’s heart stutters, and he rushes to his boyfriend’s side, attempting to hold him, but Kakashi pushes him away, cheeks stained with humiliation. Obito stares on in confusion, unsure of what to do.

Realization seems to flash in his uncle’s eyes as he stares down at Kakashi. “Kakashi,” he says, voice low, “show me your arms.”

Kakashi looks up, his expression morphing into that of panic as he shakes his head again. “No…no, no, no,” he breathes, his hold on himself tightening. “I don’t want to do this, uncle, I can’t do this anymore!”

_ “Kakashi,” _ his uncle says again, more sternly this time. Obito tries to touch Kakashi again, but his uncle immediately commands, “Obito, get away from him.”

Obito looks up in surprise, confusion crossing his features for a moment before he remembers his place, and he gets back up from the ground.

_ “I don’t want to,” _ Kakashi outright sobs, voice strained and filled with so much _pain._ “I don’t want to, please don’t make me, _please—”_

_ “Kakashi,” _ his uncle begs this time, tears forming in his eyes and threatening to spill over. The sight alone stuns Kakashi into silence for a moment. “I’m not letting you leave this room until you show me your arms.” Obito glances back at Kakashi, brows pulled together in a frown as he observes the boy’s appearance, the sweater that he had worn all day, and he briefly remembers the sweater he had worn the previous night.

Kakashi stares miserably back at his uncle, tremors wracking his body as hands shake. His eyes seem to flicker with a million emotions before his fingers finally drift to his sleeves, brushing against the cloth for a moment before tugging his sleeve up only slightly. He lets out a gasp, dropping the sleeve and staring back up at his uncle with pleading eyes. “Please don’t make me do this,” he tries once more, voice barely above a strangled whisper.

Obito glances between Kakashi and his uncle, swallowing nervously as the tension in the room only rises. He’s unsure of what to do, what to _say,_ unable to deny that Kakashi had changed while he was on those medications but knowing fully well that neglecting his treatment is _dangerous._ Kakashi’s uncle looks as if he’s about to say something when Obito suddenly remembers last night fully, the sweater, how Kakashi had been reluctant to take it off, how he had suddenly cried out when Obito held him by the waist. And he’s taken further back to their summer days, to Kakashi wearing jackets despite the heat of the outdoors, to the way he rubbed his arms when he was flustered, and his chest aches with dread as realization hits him all at once.

“Kakashi,” Obito whispers, voice cutting through the silence like a knife. Kakashi turns his broken gaze onto him, tears clinging to his lashes. _“Please.”_

Kakashi stares silently back at Obito for a moment, lips trembling as his eyes flash with different emotions. Something seems to falter, and Kakashi’s tears drip from his lashes, a shaky sob wracking his body as he reaches down, fingers wrapping around the hem of his sweater. He squeezes his eyes shut, more tears streaming down his cheeks before breathing out a weak _“I’m sorry”_ as he pulls his sweater over his head in one swift movement.

Obito’s heart almost stops.

Scratches litter Kakashi’s wrists, swirling up forearms and ending by his elbows, some pink, some red and bright and _fresh._ Cuts dash across the surface of his stomach, extending to his waist, some deeper than others, all frayed in a disarray of tallies, counting every sleepless night, every tablet that fell into the gnome. Obito feels his own eyes begin to tear up at the sight, head almost feeling faint at the number of cuts all across Kakashi’s skin, everywhere, just _everywhere,_ and he backs away, holding a hand to his head as his temples begin to throb with pain.

“Oh, _Kakashi,”_ Kakashi’s uncle breathes out, voice cracking, the heartbreak and disappointment evident in his eyes. Kakashi’s own tears flow freely down his face, the boy crouching back down and attempting to cover himself, cover his scars, but there are far too many, and Obito wants to scream out. But he can’t. His heart continues to stretch and ache, and Obito can’t help but feel as if he had failed to protect his loved one _again._

“I’m sorry,” Kakashi whispers again, sobs wracking his body. “I couldn’t control myself. They were everywhere – _everywhere,”_ he wails, words slurring together the longer he speaks. “I just wanted them _out,_ I wanted them out of me, and this was the only way—”

_ “God, _ Kakashi,” his uncle rasps, strained as he holds back his tears. “You can’t tell me that _this_ is better than your medications!” The anguish in his voice cuts through Obito’s own chest as the older man stumbles back onto a nearby chair, catching his head in his hands, the sight of Kakashi alone rendering his head faint. “You can’t tell me that you’re _better_ without them—”

“I’m sorry!” Kakashi cries. “But I couldn’t take them anymore. I couldn’t _live_ like that—”

“So why would you pretend you were still on them?” his uncle demands, unable to understand Kakashi’s choices. “We could have gone back and tried another prescription, we could have asked them for something less strong, less numbing, less—”

“And have mom and dad debate my worth all over again?” Kakashi snaps through watery eyes, and Obito falters with the words. “Listen to them yell about how _hopeless_ I am? Listen to them complain about how they’re wasting money and time and effort on drugs that always seem to screw me over no matter how _hard_ I try to fight against my own empty head?” Kakashi lets out a frustrated shout, skin turning red as his emotions begin to overwhelm him, chest heaving as he struggles to get his words out. “You have _no_ idea what it feels like to constantly have to lose _over and over again_ no matter how hard you try. You have _no_ idea what it feels like to have no control over your own thoughts, then no control over your damn _feelings._ I got tired of fighting, I got tired of having everyone worry about me when I knew all along that I _couldn’t be fixed,_ that everything about me is a wasted hope, a wasted effort. If I went back and told mom and dad that I wanted a new prescription just because I didn’t like the way this one made me _feel,_ they would have spat in my face. Spat and laughed and sent me to some asylum, and everything would have been for _nothing.”_

“I wouldn’t have let them,” his uncle tries to say. “It wouldn’t be for nothing, Kakashi. We would have found something that would work for you, work in a way you can handle—”

“How _long_ would that even take?” Kakashi says, close to hysterics as his tears continued to flow. “How many more medications do I have to endure before I finally find one that doesn’t somehow manage to fuck me over? It’s _impossible._ They’ll either work or they won’t, and when they do work, they’ll ruin everything else. I can’t win, uncle, I just can’t win.”

“You’re being dramatic, Kakashi. We could have—”

“We could have, we would have, I don’t _care!”_ Kakashi screams, the shout ripping through his lungs and searing his throat. “I don’t _care_ anymore! I already know that I can’t be helped! I already know that no matter what I do, I’m always going to see things that aren’t there, _hear_ and _feel_ things that aren’t actually there! I’d rather suffer through my life chasing these damn delusions than becoming someone I’m _not!”_

Obito flinches, and Kakashi’s uncle shakes his head in disbelief. “Listen to yourself, Kakashi, you’re giving up when you—”

“I _am_ listening to myself, but _you_ aren’t listening to me!” Kakashi cries, fingers tugging at his hair, revealing the cuts on his arms once more, and Obito forces himself to look away again. “No one, _no one_ ever listens to me! I can’t even get the damn _voices_ in my head to listen to me! That’s how pathetic I am! That’s how hopeless this all is! Those medications worked, sure, but they also turned me into someone else entirely! They took over my fucking life! Even _drugs_ control me better than I can!” He lets out a fruitless laugh, eyes empty despite the tears that dripped from his lashes. “I wasn’t _happy._ I couldn’t feel _anything._ I _hated_ being so _apathetic_ all the damn time, I _hated_ having no motivation, I _hated_ not being able to hold my pencil without my hand shaking unbearably, I _hated_ having to read a sentence over and over again just to get a grasp at its meaning, and I _hated_ feeling empty every time I tried to understand Obito, or you, or _anyone.”_ Kakashi’s entire body shakes as he speaks. “I became _nothing._ I felt so trapped within my own body, unable to feel when I _wanted_ to feel, unable to think when I _wanted_ to think. I couldn’t live like that, uncle, I really _couldn’t.”_

His uncle’s eyes falter. “But your hallucinations—”

“They never go away! I don’t just pop a pill and they just _magically_ disappear!” Kakashi cries out in anguish, what seems like years of absolute torture piling like stones. “The voices just get quieter, the colors duller. They’re still there, I still make these same damn mistakes, I still panic and scream and worry and cry and they just _never_ go away! Yes, they become easier to ignore, but they _never ever go away.”_ Kakashi covers his face with his hands. “They follow me everywhere. They tell me I’m wrong. They laugh and scream and lie and they never go away. They never _will.”_

“But is _this_ really better?” his uncle asks, a tear falling from his eye as he gestures towards Kakashi’s cuts again, and Obito's heart aches torturously in his chest. “The voices, everything, they might never leave, but anything to help…anything to help you with the pain…isn’t that good enough? Anything to help you fight them off, _anything_ that can help…God, Kakashi,” his uncle sobs, the man wiping at his tears as Kakashi stares back at him pathetically. “I don’t ever want to see you like this ever again—”

“You won’t!” Kakashi shouts, fingers dragging through his hair. “I promise you won’t! I’ll stop, I’ll stop, I’ll control myself, I’ll-I’ll—” He bites his lip hard enough to draw blood before letting out a burning scream, one that seems to shake the walls of the apartment before he scrambles back onto his feet and hurries to his room, slamming the door shut behind him.

“Kakashi!” Obito calls out, his own voice cracking, and he feels so _crushed,_ so _defeated_ and lost. The door to Kakashi’s room seems to shrink and enlarge, and Obito closes his eyes, feeling absolutely _useless, powerless,_ a failure once more. He should have recognized the signs, he should have seen the changes. He had known Kakashi had changed back then, worried that an outcome like this would have happened, yet he still failed to catch it. His heart stammers in frustration, his muscles going numb.

Kakashi’s uncle lets out a shaky breath, head hung low as he shakes his head in defeat. “Please talk to him,” he suddenly utters, and Obito glances back over at him in surprise. “Please. You’ve seen what happens when his condition takes over. I don’t think I can say anything to get him to change his mind,” he explains, meeting eyes with Obito, the man’s pupils filled with sadness. “But maybe you can.”

Obito stares silently back at Kakashi’s uncle for what feels like an eternity before giving a stiff nod. He quietly heads over to Kakashi’s door, knocking on it once and calling out his boyfriend’s name, receiving no answer. His heart aches as he tries again, but after a few seconds of no response, he goes ahead and opens the door, surprised to find it unlocked. Obito’s eyes immediately settle on Kakashi’s shaking form, curled up within the sheets of his bed, eyes swollen and dry, almost as if he had run out of tears to shed.

“Kakashi,” Obito softly says, approaching the motionless boy with careful steps. He sits on the edge of the bed, attempting to coax Kakashi from the covers, the lifelessness in his eyes tugging at Obito’s heart. “Kakashi, _please._ Talk to me.”

Moments pass by before Kakashi sniffs, and finally, he speaks beneath his breath, “I should have cleaned my damn room.”

Obito frowns. “What?”

“Nothing,” Kakashi breathes, inhaling sharply before slowly shifting and sitting back up, careful to cover his bare skin with his blanket. He glances up at Obito, an almost apologetic look in his eyes, shame coloring his skin. “You must think I’m delusional.”

“No, not at all,” Obito reassures him softly.

“You don’t have to lie to me, Obito,” Kakashi whispers, eyes falling to his lap. “I…didn’t think much of it…while I was doing this to myself,” he says, tracing his fingers over one of the scars on his arm before retreating back under the blanket. “I’d see bugs everywhere…feel them all over my skin…and I couldn’t take it, I couldn’t take _any_ of it. I just wanted them out, I didn’t think about anything else, but now that I…now…I…can _see_ it all…see it clearly…I…I…” Kakashi lets out a shaky sigh. “I’m crazy…I really am crazy.”

“Kakashi, it isn’t your fault,” Obito tries to say. “The things you hear, the things you see and feel…it isn’t your fault.”

“But it is _this_ time, isn’t it?” Kakashi says almost bitterly. “I’m such a fucking idiot. Throwing my meds out…struggling to pretend like everything’s okay…” Kakashi’s gaze is strained as he stares at Obito. “I just wish it’d all go away, even for a little while.” He sniffs. “Just _once.”_ Kakashi’s voice sounds so small, so broken, and Obito moves to hold him close, coaxing Kakashi into his arms and cradling him against his chest.

“Why’d you stop taking your meds, Kakashi?” Obito asks, knowing that there was a little more to the boy’s reasoning than what he was willing to share. “I know you were having a hard time concentrating and that exams were coming close, but…why did you stop? Really?”

Kakashi is silent for a moment, fingers clutching Obito’s sweater before he lets out a sigh of defeat. “I wanted to be there for you.”

Obito feels his heart break. “You already were.”

“But we were growing apart,” Kakashi whispers back, and Obito closes his eyes, unable to deny his words. “We were growing apart because I couldn’t talk to you, and you couldn’t talk to me. I couldn’t listen. I couldn’t even _pretend._ I could see us growing apart, but I didn’t want us to end.”

“We wouldn’t have,” Obito tells him, placing a soft kiss against his forehead. “I would’ve waited for you to get better. I would’ve waited forever, and I wouldn’t have cared.”

Kakashi sniffs. “I didn’t know that,” he says softly. “I just wanted to be with you, to be there for you. It doesn’t matter what you would have done because I would have done the same thing over and over again.” He smiles sadly. “I’m so fucking stupid. I’m sorry. I messed everything up because of my delusions, I just…”

Obito gently hushes him, pressing kisses against his temple. “You aren't stupid. You…did what you thought was best, even if it _wasn’t.”_ Kakashi lets out a soft sigh, and Obito cradles him closer, burying his face in his hair and breathing in his scent. He smells of the outdoors, of wood and grass and morning dew. “I don’t want you to do this to yourself anymore,” Obito whispers, voice filled with sincerity.

Kakashi is quiet for a moment. “Do you want me to start taking them again?”

Obito gazes down at Kakashi’s bare skin, seeing the dark scars that litter his wrists. “I do,” he breathes. “And I’ll be there for you, okay, Kakashi? You don’t need to worry about me.”

Kakashi’s eyes seem to waver as he stares up at Obito, a slight look of surprise in his gaze before he looks away. “Okay,” he finally says, voice barely above a whisper as he reaches up to wrap his arms around Obito’s neck, burying his face in his chest. The world seems to finally slow back down, settling into place, and the panic and disarray gradually disperses like smoke in the air.

Obito lets out a sigh of relief, but he still feels pain as he listens to Kakashi’s soft sniffles. “I love you, Kakashi,” he says. “I always will.”

Kakashi smiles, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “I love you, too, Obito. And I’m sorry again. For everything.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for,” Obito tells him, pressing another kiss against his temple. “Just…get through this. I know you can.” Kakashi lets out another soft sigh, and Obito adds, “I believe in you.”

Kakashi’s fingers tighten around Obito’s sweater, lip chewed between his teeth as he listens to Obito’s heartbeat. “I believe in you, too,” he whispers back, closing his eyes and settling against Obito’s warmth. Kakashi had lost his faith in himself long ago, knowing that he was climbing an endless staircase. But if Obito believed in him, maybe he could find the strength to carry on anyways.


	18. Chapter 18

Obito had a dream last night.

It’s a bit odd for him. He knows that he dreams, but he always forgets them in the morning, never thinking twice to try to remember. His dreams are never remarkable, and even his nightmares lacked the ability to make him ponder about the imaginary when he finally wakes up. He isn’t the type of person that cares for dreaming. 

But this dream is different.

There’s a little boy, barely above the age of eight, standing in the middle of a small field. His pants are cuffed at the bottom, revealing bare feet settled comfortably in the grass. The shirt he wears is white, sleeves long enough to hang just past fingertips that sport baby blue bandages.

The little boy has a small smile on his face, soft and emanating with innocence, but his eyes hold no particular emotion, locked firmly with Obito’s. Obito feels as if he’s lost in a trance under the boy’s stare, drawn to the child’s almost phantomlike appearance. His feet move for him, magnetized to the boy in the middle of a field.

Dandelions sprout from every step Obito takes, grass growing taller in a small circle around the boy. Patches of bluebells, hyacinth, parsley, and other wild flowers blossom within the circle, brushing against the boy’s ankles, petals flushing under the bright light of the sun. Their stems glistened with gloss, leaves sprouting from the sides and covering the grass in intricate curls of purples and whites and reds and blues. More and more flowers flutter to life in tune to Obito’s steps, stems outstretching, growing, growing, almost protectively around the little boy, spreading across the ground like a shadow.

The boy blinks, and Obito halts only inches away from the small garden. The child’s dewy eyes never leave his, void of any color or warmth. Slowly, he lifts a hand up, almost as if beckoning Obito closer, and for a moment, the boy’s eyes feel strangely familiar to Obito. Obito can’t recall where he had last seen such eyes, and their mystery mesmerizes him. When Obito reaches out to take the small hand, the flowers surrounding the little boy abruptly begin to wither and wrinkle, petals molding into gray and black, leaves curling into wilted crisps of brown.

Obito’s eyes widen at the disturbing sight, stunned to silence as he watches ivy crawl its way through the grass, encircling every bluebell, imprisoning rings of hyacinths, crushing every little flower in its thorny hold. The boy’s hand does not waver, still outstretched and presented to Obito in invitation. When Obito finally looks up, the boy’s white eyes quiver and melt into the color of black. He blinks again, and suddenly his gaze fills with panic, tears dripping from his lashes like a mute cry for help, his small form shaking in what could only be described as fear.

Obito steps forward, instinctively, almost, but the ivy continues to grow. It grazes the boy’s heels before wrapping around completely, pronged leaves molding against his thin ankles, thorns digging into the reddening flesh. Obito sets one foot in the circle, toes brushing against the ivy, but as soon as he comes into contact with its stems, leaves begin to encircle his own ankles as well. He immediately stumbles back, vines retracting from the disturbance, eyes meeting the boy’s in a heart-stopping instant. Obito’s chest grows heavy as the boy’s eyes flicker to blue, filling with an almost sorrowful resignation.

The ivy continues to entrap the boy’s ankles, climbing up his leg and restraining him at the knees. His arm begins to shake, but he does not lower his hand, still reaching out to Obito like a final plea for mercy. Obito grits his teeth as he reaches forward, grabbing onto the boy’s hand without a second thought and pulling, pulling, pulling. But no matter how hard he pulls, the ivy does not budge, only continuing to crawl up the boy’s small form, consuming him in a forest green that glistens under the sun’s indifferent glare. 

Just as the ivy begins to curl around the boy’s neck, his hand slips from Obito’s, falling by his side almost lifelessly. Obito stares bewilderedly at the silent boy, and he reaches desperately out once more. The boy merely shakes his head, the ivy already imprisoning his arms, thorns securing the limbs in place. Obito stubbornly pushes forward once more, ivy crunching beneath his shoes, but the prison of thorns only thickens, threatening to close in on the child’s neck, his breaths coming out in small withered wisps, freezing Obito in place.

The ivy stops, a single thorn pressed against the center of the little boy’s throat. Blue eyes dissolve to white once more, his sad and broken smile a permanent scar on his soft skin. The ivy settles in place, silent and lifeless, and Obito is left alone to stare quietly at the imprisoned boy.

The ivy clears beneath Obito’s own feet. A small pathway guides him away. Obito knows that he should follow it, but he does not want to leave the small boy alone in the thorns.

The dream had ended abruptly, with Obito’s eyes unable to leave the white orbs and the broken smile.

-

Kakashi’s tongue tastes of iron, the tablet on his palm feeling as if it carries the weight of the entire world. With every tablet he swallows, Kakashi feels as if he’s giving up another vital part of himself. It’s a terrible feeling, to feel as if the Hatake Kakashi he’s grown up as is slipping away, fragments of him that were once so filled with life draining into a vile of apathy. His life has been a constant struggle of trying to feel normal, but no matter where he turns, another part of him proves his efforts futile.

He feels lonely, most of all. It’s contradictory almost, as it’s difficult for Kakashi to bring himself to look towards Obito for comfort despite deeply longing for it. As his body struggles to balance itself, it pushes Kakashi into a wall, further and further away from what he truly wants.

Kakashi clenches his fingers over the tablet, tempted to simply crush it and let the dust litter his room, lost.

“I know what you’re thinking.” Kakashi pauses in his thoughts, glancing up from his bed and meeting eyes with Nagato, the older male settling himself into one of the beanbags in the corner of Kakashi’s room. “It’s not a good idea.”

Kakashi sighs to himself, reaching for the glass of water by his bed. “You always know what I’m thinking. Get out of my head,” he complains with no real malice, and Nagato lets out a chuckle.

“Just making sure you don’t do something you’ll regret,” Nagato defends himself simply, a fond grin on his lips.

“I wouldn’t have actually done it,” Kakashi murmurs a bit petulantly, twisting the tablet between his fingers. “I promised Obito that I would go through with the treatment.”

“I’m glad that you decided to start your meds up again,” Nagato says, eyes filled with honesty. “I was worried about you, especially after last time.”

Kakashi swallows, suddenly feeling a bit nervous. He hated thinking about his latest breakdown. Though his uncle and Obito had witnessed the aftermath of most of his psychotic breaks, they didn’t know of the time that Kakashi had lost himself in a small alleyway, his only help from a couple of strangers who happened to walk by.

Most of his breakdowns over the course of the summer had happened secretly in his room, in the bathroom, on the rooftop, anywhere, _anywhere_ but outside of the safety of his home. Kakashi is well aware of how dangerous that situation in the alleyway had been, and the very thought of how vulnerable he’d become – and in _public,_ too – sent shivers down his spine. If his uncle had known…if Obito had known, Kakashi isn’t quite sure how they would have reacted.

The cuts on his skin begin to burn, and Kakashi has to resist the urge to touch them. The very thought of them disgusts Kakashi more than anything now – a pitiful reminder of how he’d failed to control himself, how he’d failed to overcome what was never there. He hated his scars, he hated them _so much._ Kakashi had naively thought that he would be strong enough to see past the lies his own mind concocted, but the physical evidence dashed across his skin punished him for his foolishness. Maybe the decision itself had been the work of his delusions all along. Sometimes Kakashi couldn’t tell whether the voices in his head were truly just voices or the fragile call of his own.

Kakashi stares down at the tablet between his fingers once more, his stomach disgusted with the sight of it but the sting of his scars reminding him of his instability. “I wish it didn’t have to be like this,” he whispers, and his heart beats solemnly in his chest, trapped in a cage.

“You’ll be better soon,” Nagato tries to reassure him, but Kakashi barely listens. He rolls the tablet down his palm before looking up, meeting eyes not with Nagato, but Iruka behind him.

“It’s a long way back up,” is all the hallucination says.

Kakashi nods his head in an almost mournful manner, eyes never leaving Iruka’s phlegmatic stare. “Better, maybe,” he replies to Nagato, blinking once before downing the small tablet, a soft sigh escaping his lips as he finishes. “But things won’t ever truly change.”

He barely registers Iruka’s parting smile.

-

Kakashi stares down at his latest test score in dismay, wanting to feel shocked with the results but knowing deep down that he had expected this. The surprise really came from how _quickly_ he had spiraled into this unfocused mess. It’s only been a little over a week since he restarted his medications, and the effects of the drug seem to be taking a toll on him tenfold.

 _“It’s just one test,”_ Obito had told him when Kakashi first showed him his score, but Kakashi knows that Obito understands the implications. The side effects are harder to endure this time, far, _far_ harder. And with such terrible grades so early into the school year, it would only become more and more difficult from here. It’s humiliating, almost, how quickly and easily Kakashi had managed to lose control yet again.

The red scrawls marking his mistakes across the page begin to remind Kakashi of another sight, and he hurriedly crumples the test into a ball, throwing it into the nearest bin. He lets out a soft sigh, barely sparing Obito a glance as he heads towards the school library, knowing very well that he should quit while he’s ahead. Kakashi knows that he can’t do this by himself.

Obito trails quietly behind him, Kakashi somewhat grateful for his silence as he searches for his former tutor. He’s very much aware of Obito’s eyes on him and the physical distance between them as they walk down the hall, but there isn’t much that either can do about it. Kakashi hasn’t been comfortable with physical contact lately, unable to bring himself to genuinely reciprocate. Their days together have been filled with mostly silence, conversations short and uninspired with Kakashi unable to even properly look Obito in the eyes. They’d expected this distance to happen again, of course, but that didn’t make it any less difficult.

Kakashi finds what he’s looking for in the corner of the library, his former tutor reaching for a book on the highest shelf. He glances back at Obito, his boyfriend merely taking a seat at a nearby table and busying himself with his phone. Kakashi purses his lips momentarily before heading for Gai, trying his best to mask his discomfort as he taps Gai’s shoulder. 

Gai lets out a soft gasp, nearly dropping his retrieved book in the process. He turns around abruptly, meeting eyes with an equally startled Kakashi, their gazes locking for a split moment before Kakashi quickly tears his own away. Gai’s cheeks dust with pink as he utters a quick apology, Kakashi only shaking his head in reassurance.

“You got a new haircut,” Kakashi says when Gai finally settles down, only to fluster Gai.

“Erm, yeah, I just thought I could use a little change,” Gai quickly says, hiding his rosy cheeks behind his book. “Hi…Kakashi.” He sounds breathless, mostly out of surprise.

“Hi…Gai,” Kakashi greets back, and his smile is small and his gaze gentle, but his pupils appear to dilate with a certain amount of restlessness. It’s subtle, a static-like flicker that muddles the rest of his otherwise calm expression, but if Gai notices, he doesn’t comment on it.

“Do…do you need something?” Gai asks when Kakashi doesn’t say anything more, chewing on his bottom lip a bit nervously.

Kakashi takes a brief moment to appreciate the fact that Gai isn’t such a stuttering mess around him anymore, grateful that he’s at least matured in that aspect. He shakes his head to rid himself of those thoughts as he forces a smile again. Kakashi feels his hands begin to shake, and he flexes his fingers to rid them of the strain.

“Listen,” Kakashi finally says, and his voice comes out a little weak, “I really need your help again.” He didn’t like admitting it out loud.

“O-Oh…” Gai blinks, and his gaze drops to Kakashi’s hands momentarily, but Kakashi wordlessly hides them behind his back. “With what?” The question is spoken carefully, and Kakashi only then realizes how long it’s been since he had last talked to Gai. Their last interaction had been before the start of summer, when Gai had congratulated him on his exams. Kakashi had all but forgotten about Gai’s existence over the hectic months of summer, and he finds himself wondering what Gai had been doing that entire time. If anything had changed with him. Gai definitely matured at least a little bit, Kakashi can tell from how much deeper his voice sounds now, but there are no other signs of change.

Kakashi bites his tongue, shaking his head once more to relieve himself of his distracting thoughts. _There it is again,_ how easily distracted he is by the most trivial things. From chairs scraping against the floor to the clouds blocking the sun outside to a kid sneezing in the background. It’s the little details that keep him from the task at hand. It is frustrating.

Kakashi does not quite meet Gai’s eyes as he speaks, “My grades have been slipping…again…” Gai’s eyebrows rise in surprise. “I can’t seem to understand anything…” Kakashi pauses for a moment, reconsidering his words. He usually can understand things. He just didn’t have the capacity to prove it on paper. It’s the same problem Kakashi had last year, except instead of reviewing concepts for an exam, it’s completely new material. While he understood most of what was being taught, there were still blanks in his head from spacing out during his lectures. “…Or at least, I can’t concentrate long enough to fully understand.”

Gai frowns. “What happened?” he asks, and Kakashi inwardly flinches, wishing that for just this once, he wouldn’t have to explain himself. His patience has been wearing thin, and his ability to remain coherent dwindles as the hours go by. He’s tired.

“It’s nothing,” Kakashi answers him dismissively, forcefully so, and he hopes that Gai will understand. “I think I’m just losing focus, that’s all.”

Gai looks at Kakashi closely, eyes filled with concern, but when Kakashi still does not return his look, Gai bites his tongue and complies, “We can do Tuesdays and Thursdays again, if you’d like.”

Kakashi nearly lets out a sigh of relief. He surprises Gai again with another kind smile, but it lacks warmth. Gai warily returns it, though on the inside, he still can’t help but feel a little uncertain for what this renewed arrangement may hold.

Kakashi thanks Gai quietly before turning to rejoin Obito, only to halt in his steps when he realizes that Obito is no longer there.

-

Days seem to drag impossibly long.

Obito had texted Kakashi a message about him going off first, his mother calling him quite persistently and demanding that he comes home for dinner _right now._ He’d considered waiting for Kakashi to finish his conversation with Gai, but his phone’s constant vibrating against the table began to aggravate attention from the other students in the library, and Obito left in a hurry.

Obito lets out a deep sigh to himself as he parks his car, gazing tiredly at the apartment complex before him. He feels empty.

Predictably, a drift had grown between him and Kakashi once more. Kakashi never seems to be interested in Obito nowadays, mainly keeping to himself despite Obito’s willingness to listen to anything he might have to say. Still, as promised, Obito stays by Kakashi’s side despite the torn connection anyways, and he is careful not to complain.

Kakashi notably does not like to talk about his state of mind. Whenever Obito tries to ask him about how he’s handling things, Kakashi either avoids the question entirely or retaliates in irritation. It is much easier to tick Kakashi off while he is in this state, his boyfriend who is usually so patient with Obito now snapping at every mention of his medications. Obito is more cautious with his words when he’s around Kakashi nowadays, but it’s quickly becoming exhausting.

A distant Kakashi means Obito cannot be as close to him as he’d like. He can’t distract himself from his own issues with Kakashi’s comfort. As much as he thought he’d be able to hold on despite the obvious tension, it’s becoming more and more difficult for Obito to stay sane as his family continues to try to pull him out of his shell. With no Kakashi to run to when he’s feeling particularly overwhelmed, Obito is left to endure his parents’ excessive attempts to get closer to him.

Obito only finds some comfort in Izumi in this suffocating situation, who despite this all, has at least shown some improvement since she started going to therapy regularly. She started speaking to Obito again, mostly little comments here and there about school, her friends, just about _anything_ besides their family, past and present. Their own personal feelings about their late father and the tense relationship they have with their true parents are still unaddressed, neither willing to share out loud how they truly feel about these turn of events. It’s a delicate situation. But Obito does not bother to hide the way he treats their parents. He knows that Izumi knows his feelings regardless.

Obito reaches the door to their apartment, glaring slightly at nothing in particular as he lets himself in. He meets eyes with his father, the man giving him a kind smile in greeting, but Obito ignores him as he heads for his room. Obito barely hears his mother telling him that dinner is almost ready as he slams the door shut behind him. He collapses on his bed with half the mind to scream.

It’s clear that despite Obito’s efforts, his parents still refuse to give up on him. They still believe that with the right amount of care and love or whatever the hell they’re reading out of their parenting guidebooks, Obito’s attitude about them will turn right around. It’s almost _painful_ to have to sit through. Everything always feels _so forced_ and superficial. 

His mother has made it a habit to cook dinner for the four of them every night. While Obito should have welcomed these prepared meals, it was only a ruse to force him and Izumi to come out and eat dinner with their parents, _like a happy little family._ Obito tries to avoid these situations as much as possible, but with his mother’s stubborn calls earlier, it was unpreventable.

He’s finally called out for dinner, and he wordlessly drags himself out of bed to head for the dining room.

The tension at the table is already so terrible that by the time Obito sits, he feels as if he’ll choke.

Izumi sits next to him, her quiet chewing preventing her from speaking, eyes trained on the food before her. Her head is down, and it is clear that she does not wish to be addressed. Their parents sit in the seats across, each indulging themselves in their own plates, but Obito can feel his mother’s eyes occasionally flit onto him as well as sense his father’s desire to start a conversation. Obito doesn’t give them the light of day.

Ten silent minutes in, and Obito has yet to touch his food, no appetite to be found at this suffocating dinner table.

He can sense his mother’s restlessness. She wants to speak.

“Obito, your food is getting cold,” she finally says gently. Obito lifts his gaze to stare at her, and she sits up a bit straighter as she gives him a sweet smile. “Please try it. It’s your favorite, remember?”

Obito glances back down at his plate, recognizing it vaguely as one of the random colorful and oily dishes the child of his past used to _love._ He wonders how long it’s been since he last tasted this dish, but the memory it holds brings his stomach discomfort rather than hunger. Obito reaches out to take a sip from his water, not bothering to answer his mother.

His mother bites her lip awkwardly, shifting her gaze to Izumi for some sort of salvation. “Izumi, dear, how is it?” she asks, pining for her daughter’s approval, and Obito suppresses the urge to roll his eyes. “It’s not too spicy, is it?”

“It’s fine,” Izumi answers quickly, quietly before she hangs her head again, clearly unwilling to say anything else. His mother’s eyes seem to flash with sadness for a moment before she plasters on another smile, a bit strained this time as she thanks Izumi for her words.

Silence takes its place at the table once more, the brittle sounds of silverware clanking against plates cutting through the tension in the room almost painfully slow. Obito’s food remains untouched, any desire to eat completely torn from his system as he slowly counts the seconds as they tick by in his head. His parents begin murmuring amongst themselves, too low for Obito to hear, but the furtive glances sent towards his direction serve to stir a bit of caution in his chest.

His mother nods her head before turning to Izumi once more, his father and Obito watching quietly on the side. “So how has school been, Izumi?”

Izumi gives her mother an uncomfortable look. “…Fine,” she responds, and her unease becomes more and more evident the longer their mother stares at her.

“How are your grades?” their mother asks next, and Obito cringes a little to himself, knowing fully well that it would be impossible for Izumi to focus in school in such a state. _What a stupid question._ This dinner is starting to sound like a really bad joke.

Izumi doesn’t say anything, merely averting her gaze as she grabs her glass of water, drinking from it slowly as to avoid any more questions.

His mother waits a little longer for a response before swallowing awkwardly, unfortunately turning her stare onto Obito. “What about you, Obito?”

Obito bites down on his tongue. She had been there the last time Obito started a fight at school. In fact, she had been the one to convince the principal to let him off with a warning. She should already have a good idea of how school’s been going for him, and even if she doesn’t, he still refuses to speak to her.

When he doesn’t answer, his mother lets out a soft sigh in resignation. She glances over at his father in a quiet plea, and the man gives her a look of sympathy. He clears his throat, Obito and Izumi turning their gazes onto him. A small smile sits on his lips as he looks at his fiancée in reassurance, then to the two who were meant to be his children. “I suppose there’s no use in stalling any longer.”

Obito frowns, confusion evident in his eyes. “Stalling?” he says without thinking, and he swallows down his nerves. He has a bad feeling about this, but he doesn’t say anything more.

His father smiles warmly. “We’re moving.”

Izumi drops her knife, and Obito feels as if his heart stopped beating.

“…We’re _what?”_ Obito asks a bit breathlessly, unsure if he had heard him correctly. Obito feels as if his senses are playing some sort of cruel joke on him, the words so surreal, so dreamlike that it almost felt impossible. He _couldn’t_ have heard that…he _couldn’t_ have.

“We’re moving,” his father repeats himself, and the shock hits Obito twice as hard, the teen suddenly unable to properly breathe. “After your mother and I get married, of course,” the man finishes, smiling lovingly at Obito’s mother, a look that she affectionately returns.

Obito is too distracted by the news to even notice. “To _where?”_

“To Tokyo,” his mother answers this time, clearly excited by the news. She’s practically jumping in her seat. “Your father works for a company that has a branch in Tokyo. He’s been promoted to a position there, so we’ll be moving away.” She sounds as if this is the news she’s been waiting to tell for a lifetime. The mirth in her eyes is so damn overwhelming that Obito has to look away to purchase himself back into the present.

 _Promotion? Moving?_ It all just sounded too good to be true. Obito is unable to find his words, head struggling to keep up with the exponential pace of his mother’s excitement. “But the wedding…” Obito wheezes. “Isn’t it in December?”

His mother hums happily. “Of course we’ll settle things down before actually moving, but at the beginning of next year, we’ll all be living in Tokyo!” She lets out an excited squeal, Obito flinching a bit at the high pitch.

Obito’s at a loss for words for a moment, staring wide-eyed at his parents as the implications fully settle in his head. When they do, his heart suddenly picks up in pace, anxiety crawling across his fingers and making his palms sweat. He doesn’t know why, but he sees Kakashi’s eyes flash before his.

“You’re kidding me, right?” Obito gripes, tone sharp and almost accusatory. His parents seem startled by his sudden outburst. “December is two months away!” It feels so wrong… _everything about this feels so wrong._

“I know it seems a little short notice, but we just wanted to make sure that everything was arranged properly before we decided to tell you guys,” his mother explains as calmly as she can, but Obito can tell that she still isn’t used to dealing with his change in attitude, the traces of fear in her tone giving her away. “We didn’t want to get you guys excited when we still weren’t sure whether everything was confirmed or not—”

“Why can’t we wait until _after_ I graduate?” Obito says, hands clenching into fists beneath the table. “You’re just going to pull me out of school before I can finish?”

“You’ll finish in the city, of course,” his mother answers quickly, nodding her head as if to show her confidence. “And we’ll be closer to some well-known universities, making it easier for you to—”

“But…” Obito feels desperation claw at his chest as he scrambles for more, _anything_ more, “I have a job here! I can’t just _leave.”_ He hasn’t even been to that job in _months,_ but anything, _anything_ will do. _It’s all too good to be true…it can’t be true…it can’t be true…_

“You’ll have to give your boss a notice ahead of time that you’ll be quitting, but it’ll be fine, Obito,” his mother tries to reassure him, waving the issue off as if everything is already covered for them, as if their _future is secured._ “You’ll have plenty of more opportunities to find a job in a bigger city—”

Obito’s throat seems to dry the longer he listens to this, his mother’s speech about opportunity and change falling on deaf ears. He can vaguely sense Izumi beside him, the girl silent but just as shocked as he. Different alarms seem to ring in his head, each combatting one another, confusing, confusing, _it’s all so confusing._

_It can’t be true._

_It can’t be true._

“—We can start a new life, Obito, away from this town,” his mother finishes, tone filled with wonder, and Obito feels his heart drop in his chest. “There’s nothing here for you anymore.”

He sees Kakashi’s eyes again.

They’re white.

-

The clock on the wall consumes Kakashi’s attention.

The ticking of the hand seems to amplify with every second, forcing Kakashi from his concentration like a leash, unable to do anything but sit and stare. He can feel his eyes begin to prickle from dryness and fatigue, his fingernails chipping at the edge of his desk, the plastered wood beginning to wear from his scratches. The cuts on his skin feel particularly tender today, a terrible sensation that consumes his thoughts with every waking moment. Even the metronomic tick of his clock isn’t enough to distract him from the memory of his numerous breakdowns.

He feels cold, unexplainably so. Kakashi’s sweater is thick and the blanket draped around his shoulders even thicker. The air around him feels fragile, almost as if it’s shivering against his skin. Kakashi wonders if he’s catching the cold or if there’s something else that’s causing his senses to feel so troubled. He settles a bit unevenly in his chair, forcing his nails away from the desk and instead placing them between his teeth.

Kakashi’s eyes wander across his room, noting how despite his uncle’s best efforts to clean it, evidence of his rather messy lifestyle return to reclaim his floor. His gaze falls onto the cream-colored teddy bear propped against the window, beady black eyes reflecting his own. Kakashi can see the little boy he once was, the one who strayed from straight lines and blue ribbons and stars, pencils and crayons scattered across a room with scratched up walls. He sees the cotton that litters the hallway, shreds of paper almost like confetti and bleeding knuckles bandaged with purple and red and blue and green, wrapped tight like little rings around his fingers.

He hadn’t known back then why he would shake uncontrollably whenever he found himself crushed between crowds. He hadn’t known back then why his palms would sweat and stomach churn whenever someone called him out to play. He hadn’t known back then that the stretched out limbs of laughing demons and the spiders that emerged from the cracks in the walls weren’t actually there, that the voices in his head telling him to hurt anyone who gets too close were only flat lines on a recording device, that the feeling of spikes piercing his skin or the thorns tugging at his hair were all in his head.

Kakashi had spent most of his life knowing that he wasn’t normal but not knowing how he wasn’t normal. _Why_ he isn’t normal. It’s perhaps the most frustrating part of his dilemma, the inner turmoil constantly occurring within himself seeming to multiply in waves throughout his system, burning through Kakashi more and more as the antipsychotics within him work to suppress the false images that haunt him every day, consequently leaving him with no other distractions from his tangled thoughts.

Kakashi mourns the child he once was, the child with imaginary friends a little too real for innocent games. He laments his naivety that continues to blind him even to this day. An ache begins to pulse at his temples the more and more he thinks, the pain quickly reaching a breaking point close to collapse. Kakashi squeezes his eyes shut, whispering nonsensically to himself in another vain grasp for a distraction, but the ticking of the clock prods at his clenched teeth, provoking him to face the now burning light of his desk lamp, to welcome the flood of his own cynical thoughts.

Just before the final bit of Kakashi’s sanity snaps in half, the door bursts open behind him.

Kakashi glances back in surprise, his throat quickly drying up upon meeting eyes with Obito. He feels cold again, but the air is thick this time, enough to drown in.

“Obito,” Kakashi greets him carefully. He wants to say more, but he doesn’t. His mind briefly wanders to his uncle, knowing that he must have let Obito in. Kakashi hadn’t realized that he was home, too distracted by the clock on the wall, the voices still whispering in his head.

Obito stares at him, heavy breaths escaping his lips, and it takes Kakashi a moment to realize how winded his boyfriend is. It seems as if Obito had run all the way here. Kakashi swallows down his nerves and stares timidly back at Obito, expectant.

When Obito does not say anything, Kakashi averts his gaze back over to his desk, to the notebook before him filled with neat notes from Gai, his nails digging into the wood once more. “You seem upset,” he utters, and he flinches at the sound of his own voice.

There’s a stale pause that welcomes the hands of the clock. Kakashi senses Obito approaching him, stopping just behind his chair. He waits with bated breath for Obito to say something, anything to break this silent hell before the ticking of clock eats away the rest of his self-control. His nails start to crack from the pressure.

“I am,” Obito finally says, and his voice is low, laced with a sort of danger that Kakashi recognizes immediately. He retracts his fingers from the desk, turning to face Obito but finding himself looking away once more under his boyfriend’s intense gaze.

“What’s the matter?” Kakashi forces himself to say as he gets up, hurriedly heading over to the window to get some space between him and Obito. He feels himself shiver from the cold again, and his clutch around his blanket tightens.

“Take a guess,” is Obito’s answer, curt and dry, and Kakashi closes his eyes, one shoulder leaning against the wall as his temples begin to slightly throb.

“Your parents?” is Kakashi’s guess. When Obito doesn’t say anything, Kakashi opens his eyes. “Of course it is,” he utters, unable to hide the sudden indignation in his tone. A sharp spike of pain in his head further spurs his quickly building irritation.

“It’s wonderful, isn’t it?” Obito says, catching Kakashi’s fleeting gaze. “To first be unwanted by the people irresponsible enough to have you in the first place, then to be tossed to the side like trash, and finally dragged from one corner to the next years later when they finally decide that they want to fix their mistakes.” Kakashi doesn’t say anything, allowing Obito to continue his rant. _“Parents…”_ he says the word as if it burns his tongue, “What a fucking _joke.”_

Kakashi’s mind immediately wanders to his own parents, memories of crying alone in his closet as his parents leave him behind for another day making him grimace. He bites back the urge to snap, trying his best to remain calm. “At least they’re _trying,_ Obito,” Kakashi allows himself to say, and by the way Obito looks at him, he realizes that he’s balancing on a thin rope.

 _“Trying?”_ Obito echoes incredulously, scoffing to himself, and Kakashi quickly turns his gaze to the window again, distracting himself with the cars down below. “Am I supposed to give them a fucking medal or something for _trying?_ Trying to be the parents they should have been years ago? It’s too damn late for them to try anymore. I’m sick of their shit.”

Kakashi swallows thickly, finding it more and more difficult to hold himself back. “What else are they supposed to do?” he questions a bit sharply, though his voice is soft in comparison to Obito’s. His eyes never leave the window as he speaks, “Ignore you? Throw you out? Pretend you never existed? They’re your _parents,_ Obito. They’re doing what they can.”

“Is that supposed to mean something?” Obito questions heatedly, and Kakashi bites his lip as he bears himself for what’s to come next. “They’re worthless. So many parents leave their children behind, so what good is the title when so many of these assholes end up abandoning their kids anyways?”

The remnants of wood beneath Kakashi’s nails suddenly begin to feel extremely apparent. “You think I don’t know that, Obito?” Kakashi retorts back, the threads of his self-control coming loose. “You don’t think I know how _terrible_ parents can be?” Obito doesn’t say anything, merely staring at Kakashi, expression unreadable. “Call them what you want – assholes, mom, dad, _bitch,_ I don’t care. You can’t change the fact that they’re your real parents, and for what little value the word has for you, at least _yours_ aren’t abandoning you _now.”_ Kakashi briefly glances over at Obito before turning to the window once more. “They’re doing the opposite, actually. I just don’t see what you’re complaining about when your parents are actively trying to earn your forgiveness.”

Obito looks as if he’s never heard something so wrong in his entire life. “If their way of trying to _actively earn my forgiveness_ is through controlling every fucking aspect of my _life,_ then I’d rather they fucking abandon me,” Obito growls. “Again.”

The throb in Kakashi’s temples feels particularly sharp. “You’re being a child.”

Obito scoffs. “And you’re not even looking at me.”

Silence falls between them once more, and Kakashi’s breath falls from his lips like a prayer. “Your parents just want to keep you safe.”

Obito scoffs, and for some reason, the sound seems to tear at the final threads keeping Kakashi in one piece. Kakashi finally tears his gaze away from the window, and he catches sight of Iruka by his side, the boy’s smile heightening his strife.

Kakashi quickly looks away, instead fixing Obito with a sharp glare. “You’re being so fucking _childish,”_ he snaps, and Obito, who seemed shocked at first, quickly glares back. “Your mom and dad want to have family dinners, want to get to know you, want to make things right again, and you’re treating it like they’re holding a knife against your throat. You just keep pushing them away like their efforts mean nothing.”

“They _do_ mean nothing,” Obito disputes, clearly irritated with Kakashi’s accusations. “No amount of flowers and chocolate can fix the years of abuse Izumi and I had to endure before they finally decided to come back from the past. On the day my mother left, I was still hiding a fucking tooth for the damn tooth fairy. I’m almost _eighteen_ now. Just imagine how long that really is. I don’t care how much they do for me or Izumi. They can’t do _anything_ to fix all of the damage that their selfishness left behind in the first damn place.”

 _“He’s so dismissive,”_ Iruka utters beside him, and Kakashi’s fingers clench around his blanket. _“He doesn’t care about what you have to say.”_

“I get it, Obito, _fine,”_ Kakashi says, exasperation taking over his tone. “I get why it’s so hard to forgive them, but why do you act like it’s impossible to even _try?_ You don’t even _want_ to try!”

Obito lets out another scoff. “Why should I try when I know that they can turn their backs on us at any moment _again?_ That my mom can run out on us _again?”_

“You don’t know that, Obito. You don’t know that she will,” Kakashi tries to say, but his voice cracks a little, and the blanket drops to the ground. Iruka nudges it to the side, and a few spiders scatter to the corner of Kakashi’s room. Kakashi’s eyes follow the trail for a moment before he shakes his head, focusing on Obito once more.

“And why should I trust that she _won’t?”_ Obito retorts. “You can say that people change all you want, but they’re still the same damn person in the end.”

“That isn’t fair, Obito—”

“Since when has life been _fair_ to people like us, Kakashi?” Obito snaps, and he sounds as if he can’t believe that Kakashi would even try to argue with him. “Why the fuck should I make it any easier for _them?”_ Obito glowers accusingly at Kakashi, ice frigid in his eyes. “And why the hell are you defending them? You of all people should know how fucking vain parents can be. They _don’t_ change. They _never_ do.”

Kakashi feels his temples pound in irritation, finding Obito’s disregard for his opinions absolutely ridiculous. “Because unlike my parents, _yours_ are actually _trying.”_ Kakashi’s hands clench by his sides, and suddenly he can’t stop himself anymore. The feelings he’s held back for so many years finally surface at once, anger residing in his eyes as he recounts the injustices he’s faced since he was only a child. “For _years_ I’ve wanted nothing more than my parents’ approval…their love, their fucking _forgiveness_ of all things. I know I shouldn’t feel sorry for shit I can’t help, but every time my parents look at me with such disgust and disappointment, I can’t help but want to apologize somehow for turning out so _worthless._ For so fucking long, I wanted my parents to love me like real parents would, but no matter what I do, it’s _never_ enough!” Kakashi sucks in a sharp breath, cold air dashing his lungs. “As long as these damn voices stay in my head, I’ll _never_ have their forgiveness, their approval, their love. No matter how hard I cry and plead and beg for them to treat me like their child instead of some freak, they’ll never listen.” Kakashi glares pointedly at Obito. “So I’m _sorry,_ Obito. I’m so fucking sorry that all I want is for you to have what I _can’t.”_

“I don’t need their care or forgiveness,” Obito spits, seemingly appalled at the very notion, “and I couldn’t care less if they actually _love_ me. I wouldn’t believe them if they told me they did, anyways. Because _again,_ if they truly loved us, they wouldn’t have abandoned Izumi and me in the first fucking place.”

Kakashi’s jaw clenches painfully tight, feelings of envy and detest sparking his words. “I can’t believe how incredibly _selfish_ you’re being!” Kakashi suddenly shouts, and Obito gapes back in bewilderment. “You have no idea how lucky you are! There are so many people out there, people like _me_ who would _kill_ for such understanding parents, for parents willing to care and listen and just pay some fucking attention to their kids for once in their goddamn lives! _Yeah,_ your parents made a lot of mistakes, unforgiveable mistakes, but at least they want to _fix them!_ At least they’re _trying_ to change! My parents would rather fucking _die_ than accept me as their flesh and blood while yours are desperately trying to get you to at least call them your mother and father!” Kakashi lets out a cry of frustration. “And for _fuck’s_ sake, at least your parents aren’t constantly trying to ship you far, _far_ away from everyone you ever loved just because they can’t stand the very thought of your existence!”

Obito is silent for a moment, and Kakashi watches him with bated breath. “They’re not trying to send me away, but they’re definitely trying to _take me away.”_

Kakashi blinks, anger quickly diffusing into confusion. “What?”

Obito stares quietly at Kakashi, as if studying his reaction before he looks away. “They don’t want to…they don’t want _us_ to stay here,” Obito explains, and the fortitude in Kakashi’s eyes wavers. “They want to move after they get married.”

_Move._

_“He’s going to leave you,”_ Iruka states, and for once, he almost sounds _sorry._

“Obito…” Kakashi breathes, astonished by the news. “Why?” 

“My mom’s fiancé got some fancy new promotion, and according to her, there’s nothing here for us anymore anyways,” Obito says, and he looks as if the sight of Kakashi alone hurts him, the very thought of leaving clearly agitating him more than it was Kakashi. Kakashi swallows, listening in silence, not knowing what he really feels. “There’s more opportunity in a big city, my mom says. She thinks that we can start fresh, lead new lives, throw away our past like it’s just _that_ fucking easy.” Obito scoffs a little to himself, doubt and hints of insecurity manifesting in his eyes, his arms crossed tightly over his chest.

“…Are you leaving before we graduate?” Kakashi asks quietly, feeling a small ache in his heart at the prospect of being alone at the end of the year, but a bigger part of him tugs in another direction. The part of him that knows better.

“Yeah…no… _I don’t know,”_ Obito answers, frustration clear in the strain of his voice as he stares back at Kakashi. The distance between them feels even more apparent than before, Kakashi quietly turning to gaze out the window once more. “I don’t even know if I want to go with them.”

Kakashi swallows, his heart dripping with something unknown. “But why wouldn’t you?”

Obito is quiet for a moment, the question seeming to hold more weight than Kakashi intended. The hesitance feels uncharacteristic of Obito, and Kakashi can feel Obito’s stare boring onto the back of his neck, but Kakashi does not turn to look at him. His eyes refuse to leave the streets outside, almost afraid to hear what Obito will say next.

“…What could _I_ do in a big city?” Obito finally says, and he sounds as if he feels like the idea of him in such a place is _impossible._ But there are hints of something else in there, and Kakashi knows that Obito isn’t being honest. “There might be a lot of opportunity there, sure, but I’m sure as hell not qualified for any of them.”

Kakashi does not say anything.

The window reflects the fear in Kakashi’s eyes, and he catches sight of Iruka behind him, the image’s own stare holding the courage Kakashi always wishes he had. _“You’re holding him back. He_ actually _has a chance to leave this town now, to have a better future, but_ you’re _holding him back.”_

Kakashi bites his lip.

He knows Iruka’s right.

“I think you should do it,” Kakashi finally says, voice barely above a whisper.

Obito immediately glances up in shock, but Kakashi still does not face him. “What?”

“I think you should do it,” Kakashi repeats himself, and he finally turns around, meeting Obito’s astonished eyes with his own unwavering stare, stunning Obito into silence. “I think you should go with them.”

“Kakashi—” Obito tries to say, but Kakashi shakes his head before he can say anymore.

“Think about it, Obito,” Kakashi continues, and his eyes are different, almost unrecognizable to Obito. There’s no hesitance, there’s no fear. But it doesn’t come from confidence, it comes from something else that Obito can’t place. “Izumi can start fresh. _You_ can start fresh. You get to finally leave this shithole of a town behind…That’s all you’ve ever wanted, isn’t it?” Kakashi’s voice is filled with sincerity.

Obito’s bewildered gaze shifts into nothingness before falling to the ground. Premonition stirs in Kakashi’s chest, but he resists the urge to look away. He has to remain steadfast, he tells himself despite the tugging at his heart, the doubtful whispers plaguing his ears.

“So even you, huh?” Obito says through gritted teeth, tone low and filled with venom. Kakashi frowns in confusion. “Even _you_ want me gone.”

“What?” Kakashi’s jaw drops, appalled by the mere suggestion. He immediately shakes his head in denial. “No, of course not, Obito. Why would you even think that?”

“You just said it,” Obito utters, but he does not offer anything more.

Kakashi stares dumbly back at him. “What the fuck?” he blurts out in disbelief. “Why on earth would _I_ want you gone? After everything we’ve been through together, after everything we’ve said and done with each other, why would _I_ of all people want you gone?”

“You just said you wanted me to do it,” Obito says, tone bitter as he glares back at Kakashi. “You just said you wanted me to _leave.”_

Kakashi lets out a scoff, finding Obito’s petty words absolutely ridiculous. “I’m telling you to leave this _town,_ dumbass. Not _me.”_

“That involves leaving you, _dumbass,”_ Obito retorts, and Kakashi feels his temple throb once more. “Leaving this town also means leaving _you._ I don’t want to leave without you – we promised each other we’d—”

“Oh my _god…”_ Kakashi looks away, completely baffled by the ludicrous revelation. “You’re kidding me, Obito…You’re fucking kidding me, right?” When Obito doesn’t say anything, Kakashi lets out another breath of disbelief. “You’re really willing to lose out on this opportunity just because you don’t want to leave _without me?_ You’re going to put yourself through this hellhole of a town for god knows how much longer just because we made some _promise?”_

“I’m sorry? Did that promise mean _nothing_ to you?” For a moment, Obito sounds afraid, his tone shaking with each word. But it quickly morphs into betrayal, then anger, and his eyes darken dangerously. _“You_ were the one who said you wanted to run away with me. You were the one who told me we’d make it through this _together._ You were the one who said we’d find a future _together._ You were the one who said you’d never leave me, and now you’re telling me to leave _you?”_

Kakashi shakes his head, frustration evident in the crease between his brows. “No, don’t pin this on me. Don’t act like I’m trying to ruin your fucking life by telling you to leave.” Obito lets out another scoff, looking away with a thin smile of disbelief. “You’ll have a better life over there, Obito!” Kakashi tries despite Obito’s clear disinterest. “A new life, a bigger and better life… _Izumi,_ Izumi will have a new life to live, too! Don’t fucking tell me that she won’t—”

Obito eyes Kakashi, the coldness in his eyes seeming to dissipate for just a fraction of a second. “I know Izumi will—”

“Then why are you hesitating?” Kakashi cuts him off, absolutely sick of running in circles. “You never hesitated before! You always said that at the first opportunity, you’d take everything you have and leave. Are you really going to abandon Izumi for something as trivial as _this?”_

Obito stares at Kakashi incredulously. “So suddenly not wanting to leave you behind is _trivial?”_ Kakashi looks away, wrapping his arms around himself. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, Kakashi, but every time I’ve said I wanted to run away, I’ve always said that I wanted to run away with you. Not with my mom, not with her fiancé, but with _you.”_

Kakashi can hear Iruka’s laughter in the back of his mind, and he forces himself to look at Obito again, holding his stare. “Obito, you _know_ I’d do anything to go with you, but I’m not going to let you throw away this chance like this,” Kakashi says, his voice strained as he attempts to remain levelheaded. He didn’t want to fight. He _really_ didn’t want to fight over this. “Even if we do hold on and run off together in the future, we _still_ don’t know what’ll happen to us. At least with your parents, you’ll have something secure for once.” Kakashi bites his lip, his heart constricting painfully in his chest as he considers the past, considers his scars. “Something _stable.”_

Obito regards Kakashi in silence, shoulders tense and brows knotted together, vexation in his eyes. “I don’t get it,” he utters, voice darkened with morose, and Kakashi’s hold on himself tightens. “You said that we’d always be together, that we’d last no matter what. We promised to leave together—”

Kakashi’s head throbs once more. _“Again with that,”_ he gripes. “It’s different this time, Obito. You know damn well that it’s different this time.”

 _“How_ is this any different than all the other times?” Obito demands. “You were crying about love not too long ago, love and promises and whatever the hell you were crying about back then, but suddenly that doesn’t mean shit? Suddenly it’s different, and now everything we’ve ever promised each other means nothing to you anymore?”

“I’m not saying that our promises mean nothing to me, I’m just saying that they don’t matter _right now!”_ Kakashi protests, but as soon as he says it, he realizes how _wrong_ it sounds.

“That’s not a fucking _promise,_ Kakashi,” Obito growls. “So what? They were all _lies?_ Just a bunch of empty fucking words to make me feel better?”

“No, of course not!” Kakashi disputes, exasperation evident in the way his arms droop by his sides. “Of course I meant every word, but the difference between back then and now is that you _actually_ have a chance at a better future _away from here!_ New lives for you and Izumi, an opportunity to forget the hell you had to go through here. Our promise was meant to be reassurance that we’d stay together no matter what happens to us, not that you have to force yourself to stay in this shitty town just for _me.”_

“But what about _you,_ Kakashi?” Obito retaliates, and he looks so aggravated, so close to losing it. “What about _you?”_

“What _about_ me?” Kakashi repeats, not understanding Obito’s implications. “Sure, I’ll be alone here and it’s going to fucking suck, but all I have to do is wait.” Kakashi lets out a shaky breath, having said the makeshift plan out loud struck him with the reality of the situation, but he doesn’t take it back. He knows that this is right. “I’ll wait out the rest of the year and find a way—” Obito lets out a scoff of disbelief, and Kakashi immediately freezes. He stares blankly back at Obito. “What?”

Obito glances at Kakashi briefly before shaking his head. “Nothing.”

Iruka lets out a boisterous laugh, and Kakashi’s teeth grit together. “No, not _nothing._ What the hell were you trying to say?” Kakashi demands.

Obito crosses his arms, leaning back against Kakashi’s desk. “I wasn’t trying to say anything.”

Kakashi stares at Obito with wide eyes for a moment, observing the stiffness of his posture, the way he refuses to meet Kakashi’s gaze. Realization hits him like a smack to the face, and his blood seems to go cold, his system immediately filling with what he could only describe as _disgust._ “You don’t think I could do it, do you?”

Obito barely looks at him.

Iruka smirks.

Kakashi feels his throat go dry. “You’re fucking kidding me. You really don’t think I can do it. You really think I can’t do this by myself.” Kakashi had his own self-doubts, he could never go a day without them. But to realize that Obito had felt the same way…the very person who said he’d believe in him thinking that Kakashi isn’t capable of doing anything for himself…it all felt like one huge punch to the gut.

“It’s not that, Kakashi,” Obito tries to say, his eyes softening for once as he pushes away from the desk to approach Kakashi, a hand out to touch his shoulder. Kakashi steps away, shaking his head with a firm resolve.

“Then _what,_ Obito?” Kakashi challenges, voice filled with ice. “Why the hell did you hesitate?”

Obito’s fingers clench together, hand dropping by his side. He stares down at Kakashi, expression unreadable before he lets out a scoff. “This is fucking stupid, Kakashi. I just don’t want to abandon you here. Is that a fucking crime?”

“I don’t want to be left alone either, but the fact that you think I can’t handle myself says enough about what you _really_ think about me,” Kakashi snaps, and he can sense Iruka from behind. He doesn’t need to look to know that the hallucination is smiling, amused with Kakashi’s foolishness.

Obito gives Kakashi a look of disbelief. “I didn’t even say that, don’t put words in my fucking mouth—”

“But you were thinking it!” Kakashi gripes, and he pauses for a moment to hear Obito deny it, but he doesn’t. “I don’t need you to take care of me just because I have a fucking mental disorder,” Kakashi utters lowly, eyes harsh and accusatory.

“Oh my _god,_ Kakashi,” Obito groans. “Am I wrong for worrying about you?” he says, voice rising as he leans against the wall, rubbing a hand over his face in frustration. “I’m not saying that you can’t take care of yourself, I’m just—” He hesitates once more, and Kakashi feels his face heat up in humiliation. Obito looks at him, eyes filled with a mixture of emotions before he steps forward, placing his hands on Kakashi’s shoulders and forcing their gazes to meet. “I know you can take care of yourself. I _know_ you can, but god dammit, Kakashi. After that day, when I saw what you were doing…what you were doing to _yourself,_ god I couldn’t bear the sight of it all. I told myself from then on that I’d never leave you alone like that ever again. That I’d be there for you, _by your side.”_ Kakashi bites his lip, feeling his resolve break as Obito’s words pile on him, the severity of his condition hitting him once more. It hurts. He feels like such a failure. “I don’t want to risk you doing anything like that again—”

“I’m not going to do anything like that ever again,” Kakashi quietly tries to deny, but a little voice in his head tells him that Obito is right. “I saw it all, too, Obito. You don’t have to worry about me. I’m not going to let myself take it that far again—”

“Kakashi—”

 _“He doesn’t trust you,”_ Iruka says in a sing-song tone, whistling amusedly to himself. _“He doesn’t trust you with yourself.”_ Kakashi looks up, and when he meets Obito’s eyes, the warmth suddenly blackens into control. _“He thinks you’re going to break.”_

“I can take care of myself, Obito,” Kakashi spits, roughly shoving Obito away. “I spent at least _sixteen_ years of my life without you, so I don’t need _you_ to tell me what I can and can’t do.”

Obito looks stunned, jaw dropped in incredulity at Kakashi’s sudden change in behavior. He eyes Kakashi carefully, as if weighing something in his head before his fists clench by his sides. “I should have known you wouldn’t understand me.”

Kakashi’s own eyes narrow. “Tell me what the hell I don’t understand, because to me, it just sounds like you’re denying yourself the happiness you wanted,” Kakashi utters. “I’m not your possession or pet to take care of. It seems like _you_ don’t understand that I’ll be fine by myself.”

“You’re not even _listening_ to me anymore,” Obito says, aggravation evident in the heaviness of his tone. “How the hell am I supposed to be happy over there? In a place I don’t know with people _I don’t fucking love?”_

“So you don’t love Izumi?” Kakashi snaps. “Forget about _me,_ did you just conveniently forget that your fucking sister relies on _you?_ That she sure as hell won’t go anywhere without _you?”_

“Izumi couldn’t care less about my good-for-nothing mother and her fiancé,” Obito mutters emotionlessly, but Kakashi lets out a scoff of disbelief. “She doesn’t want to go either,” he adds on, and Kakashi only shakes his head. Obito appears to grow more and more frustrated with every word. _“She doesn’t trust them,”_ he adds, and Kakashi suddenly slams his hand down on the windowsill, the loud bang of the collision startling Obito into silence.

“That’s because you’re not _letting her!”_ Kakashi shouts at him, and Obito stares back, baffled. “You’re the _one_ person she’s spent her entire life with, the one person who’s endured the same hell, and with you constantly pushing your parents away, of _course_ she’s going to do the same! She only trusts you because you’re all she has left in this damn world, and I know that even if she doesn’t speak to you, she’s following your every fucking move. You said it yourself, you’re her older brother! She looks up to you, she trusts your judgment, and when you’re treating your parents like shit, she won’t see them as anything but.” Kakashi’s fingers clench together, nails dragging through the wood of his windowsill. “If not you, you’re keeping her from the happiness she deserves.”

“My parents aren’t capable of taking care of her,” Obito growls, but he sounds defensive, as if he’s running out of places to hide. “I can’t trust them with her, so why would I want her to trust them either?”

Kakashi wants to scream. “You’re being so incredibly _selfish!_ You haven’t even given your parents a real fucking chance, and you’re already labeling them as incapable?” Kakashi feels his eyes begin to tear up as he suddenly remembers the week his parents had come to discuss his medications, remembers how ready they were to send him off. He quickly blinks the tears away, the sting of the memory spurring on his anger with Obito’s attitude. “You’re keeping Izumi from having a _real_ family, a happy and real family that loves and supports one another, and—”

Obito barks out a laugh. “Our family is nothing like that—”

“Because you won’t let it be!” Kakashi cries out, fingers tearing through his hair. “Can’t you see? You’re the dent that’s keeping your family from being happy! You’re being just as selfish as your damn _mother!”_

Obito’s eyes widen, the very mention of the woman seeming to drench him in cold water. “I’m nothing like her.”

“Yes, you are!” Kakashi snaps, and everything Obito had pushed away, his doubts, his insecurities, his _fears,_ come rushing back all at once. “You’re abandoning your family for your own selfish reasons,” the words leave Kakashi’s lips before he can stop himself, and his eyes widen at his own voice, knowing fully well that he’s treading dangerous waters. But he can’t stop. “And all you’re doing is coming up with _excuses._ More and more excuses to justify the fact that you’re ruining yourself and your family. You’re using me, you’re using Izumi, you’re even using the fucking _past, anything_ to shield yourself from the fact that it’s _you._ It’s all _you!”_ Kakashi wants to stop, he so badly wants to stop before he says something he regrets, but he can’t. “I know you love me, and I know you don’t want to leave me here alone, but that isn’t an excuse for you to turn your back against your family. Your mother did the exact same thing. Don’t be a fucking hypocrite. Open your damn eyes, Obito.”

Obito doesn’t say anything, and Kakashi immediately continues, words falling from his lips without so much of a bat of his lashes or a single thought for Obito’s silence. “I can’t believe how fucking selfish you really are. All you fucking do is get angry and irrational, always throwing yourself around without a second thought about how much you’re hurting those around you. You do this every damn time something bad happens to you, and you’re doing it again over something that’s actually _good._ How fucking _ridiculous._ I can’t believe you.” Obito still does not say anything, and Kakashi lets out a scoff. “If you’re really going to hold Izumi and yourself back from such a bright future that anyone else would _die_ to have, then you really are the _worthless bastard_ everyone thinks you are!”

Obito freezes in place, and Kakashi immediately clamps his hands over his mouth, his own eyes widening in shock as he realizes what he just said. Ice immediately melts into remorse as Kakashi frantically shakes his head, reaching out to touch Obito, but the other steps away. “I’m sorry, _fuck,_ I’m sorry, Obito,” Kakashi quickly whispers. “I didn’t mean to, I didn’t—”

 _“Worthless bastard,_ huh?” Obito repeats, eyes dark and unreadable as he lets out a small, bitter laugh. Kakashi bites his lip in regret, weakly shaking his head once more. “If we’re really going to care about what everyone else thinks about us, then I guess you really _are_ a fucking _psychopath_ for falling in love with a _worthless bastard_ like me.”

Kakashi stares back at Obito in disbelief, but his heart aches with remorse. _This is my fault, this is my fault, I took things too far_ …His scars sting with pain, and he closes his eyes, knowing that he had lost control again. _Again._ “Obito, I didn’t mean it like—”

“Then what _did_ you mean?” Obito’s voice sounds so cold, so cold and reserved, and it reminds Kakashi of the day they first met. How guarded and suspicious he sounded. It hurts to think about. “You already said it. You can’t just take it back and pretend it never happened. Nice to know that even my damn boyfriend thinks so little of me.”

“God, Obito, I didn’t mean to…” Kakashi lets out a groan of frustration. “I just…I just don’t want you to make such a stupid mistake! _Fuck,_ I’m so sorry I called you that, I really didn’t mean to, but I do mean it when I say that you’re making a huge mistake when you say you won’t leave with your parents—”

Obito scoffs, and Kakashi immediately shuts up, biting down on his tongue as he stares uncertainly at Obito. “I don’t even know why I’m bothering to listen to this. Why I’m even bothering to listen to _you,”_ Obito spits, and Kakashi looks at him in bewilderment. “I never know what it is with you. I never know if I’m talking to _you_ or the fucking voices in your head half of the time. One day, you’re acting like you can’t live another day without me, the next you’re pushing me away and telling me that you’ll be better off without me. I don’t even know if it’s the delusions or you or the meds talking anymore.” Obito shakes his head jadedly. “I’m fucking…I’m so _sick_ of this shit.”

Kakashi feels his heart drop in his chest, but he’s unable to move, Obito’s words feeling like a rain of stones.

_The delusions, the medications._

_Me._

Is it the delusions? Is it the medications?

_Is it me?_

_“Well, would you look at that?”_ Iruka says with a little laugh. _“It seems you never really knew yourself after all.”_ He pauses, his smile fading into a grim stare. _“I told you, Kakashi, didn’t I?”_

Kakashi swallows, finally turning his gaze onto Iruka, eyes filled with pain, tears of remorse clinging to his lashes.

Iruka shakes his head in an almost mournful manner. _“He doesn’t want you anymore. He’s drained you, and now he’s going to throw you away.”_

Kakashi lets out a shaky breath. _No._

_The delusions._

_The medications._

_“You don’t mean anything to him. You never did.”_

Kakashi looks up, but Iruka is no longer there.

Obito is.

 _“You’re_ sick of this?” Kakashi echoes, and he succumbs to the vines, he succumbs to the thorns, the petals of red and wings of green. “Well I’m tired of you constantly coming here and complaining about how much your life fucking _sucks_ when really _you’re_ the damn problem! No matter what I say, you never fucking listen anyways! Yeah, _I’m fucked up._ Sometimes my delusions take over, sometimes my meds take over, and sometimes it’s just me, but at least I have enough sense to know where the damn problem is. And at least I’m trying to _fix it.”_

“Oh, _do_ you have enough sense?” Obito gripes. “You can barely ever hold it together, Kakashi, don’t fucking lie to yourself. And you got pissed at me for thinking you can’t handle yourself? You’re barely self-aware as it is, and you have the damn scars to prove it.”

_You’re nothing to him._

Kakashi feels his eyes water once more, but he clenches his teeth and forces himself to hold his tears back. _Not now. Not over this._ “Don’t talk to me about holding it together. I’m not the one picking random fights with every kid that happens to look at me the wrong fucking way!” 

_He’s nothing to you._

“And you’re just a little saint, right?” Obito retorts. “Last time I checked, your record’s just as bloody as mine.”

_You’re nothing to him._

“I didn’t start any of those fucking fights. I didn’t even start ours. I _never_ start ours!”

_He’s nothing to you._

“You’re right. You’re too busy crying over every little problem and playing damsel in distress to even bother. Why don’t you fucking _grow up?”_

_You’re nothing to him._

“You’re asking _me_ to grow up? You’re the asshole always throwing temper tantrums every time things don’t go your fucking way!”

“At least I don’t have to rely on little pills every morning to keep me from killing myself—” Obito snaps, and Kakashi’s mind goes blank, his hand automatically coming up and slapping Obito across the face.

Silence instantly fills the space between them. Obito’s cheek reddens to match the shape of Kakashi’s palm. Kakashi’s own hand stings from the impact. Both are frozen in place, the unmistakable moment replaying over and over again in their minds.

Kakashi slowly gazes down at his hand, watching in horror as it begins to shake, the reddened skin a horrible reminder of what he had just done. And _who_ he had just done it to. He immediately steps back, his breath beginning to hasten as his head rings in alarm. Kakashi’s fingers grip at his hair, and he stares tearfully at Obito, his boyfriend’s head still snapped to the side, the sight alone enough to make Kakashi crumble with remorse. “I’m sorry…I’m sorry, I’m sorry, oh my god, Obito…” Kakashi whispers as he struggles to even his breaths, “I’m _so_ sorry—”

Obito slowly lifts his own hand, touching the heated skin of his cheek, expressionless gaze meeting Kakashi’s shaking one.

“I’m sorry,” Kakashi says again, reaching out to touch Obito, but Obito immediately smacks his hand away. Kakashi whimpers to himself, backing up, eyes tearing up in regret. “Obito, I’m _sorry—”_

 _“Save it,”_ Obito utters lowly, straightening himself up and facing Kakashi with what little pride he has left. “I was an idiot to think you’d see things the way I do.”

Kakashi shakes his head. “No, Obito, I—”

“I was an even _bigger_ idiot to think that people like us could ever work out,” Obito continues, and his eyes are so _cold,_ so distant and _cold._ “Thanks for reminding me about how stupid and worthless I really am.”

Kakashi can feel his heart breaking in his chest. “I didn’t mean to—” His breath fails him as he lets out a sob, eyes blurring as tears trail down his cheeks. Obito watches silently as Kakashi frantically wipes them away, the younger of the two whispering his apologies desperately to the air. For a moment, Obito sees ivy. He sees ivy and thorns and a garden of hyacinths surrounding a boy with eyes of white.

Obito lets out a deep sigh, forcing himself to look away from the sight of the shaking boy and the garden of thorns. “You were right,” Obito murmurs, eyes trained on the floor as the stain on his cheek begins to burn. “We lived sixteen years without each other.” He swallows. “You don’t need me, and I don’t need you.”

Kakashi is unable to hold himself back as he releases another painful cry, his throat immediately closing up on him as he falls to his knees and sobs. He wants to say something, _anything_ to fix things, but his body won’t let him. He’s trapped again. He’s lost control again.

Obito leaves without another word, the door slamming shut behind him.

Kakashi succumbs to the silence of his own sobs.

Outside, Obito’s feet crunch over crippled leaves, and from their corpses comes the scent of fall.

-

Kakashi has a dream that night.

His dreams are quite different from Obito’s. He remembers each one. Many are the same, but many are also different. All of them are nightmares.

This one _is_ a dream, though, or at least Kakashi classifies it as one. It’s a dream mainly due to the fact that it doesn’t absolutely terrify him like his nightmares do. He’s dreamt this dream before, but it’s different again. This dream in particular always seems to change. It isn’t a nightmare, no, but this dream still haunts him. He feels as if he remembers them better than his nightmares. It’s unpleasant, but his dreams always are.

His toes teeter over the edge of a rooftop. There are no railings. There are no streets below. The horizon before him seems to stretch out indefinitely, and when he glances behind, there is no roof to fall back onto. He is simply on an edge, a wall, infinitely tall, infinitely wide, with a sky that expands infinitely on each axis.

Kakashi has nowhere else to go. He can choose to remain on the edge, but nothing will change. He can choose to wait until he wakes up, but time stretches strangely in dreams. Hours, minutes, seconds, years, they’re all jumbled when he dreams. Instead, Kakashi does the same thing he always does in this dream. He steps over, he feels the wind pull him forward, he feels his body lose all weight as he falls through the sky.

The dreams always end the same.

He never hits the ground. Kakashi always wakes up before he can.

But this dream is different. There is no ground. No grass, no pavement, no road waiting to catch him. Nothing visible, at least. There is only the sky, some clouds, an endlessness that sweeps around him. Everywhere he looks, it’s the same thing. It’s the same sky.

His eyes tear up from the pressure of falling, but other than that, he does not feel anything. There is no resistance when he is falling. It all comes with an inexplicable feeling of peace.

Kakashi wakes up abruptly.

He never sees a ground, trapped in an endless abyss of white and blue. For a moment, Kakashi isn’t sure if there ever really was a ground in these recurring dreams, if there really is a proper end to his fall. Perhaps he simply can’t see it, perhaps he did hit the ground, and it forced him back into reality.

Kakashi thinks about his dreams all of the time. Every color, every sound, every image, every fall. He wonders about a lot of things, such as whether or not there’s some sort of meaning behind these ambiguous dreams, or if there’s nothing to it but another miserable consequence of his condition. Kakashi doesn’t know, and he doesn’t think he’ll ever find the answers.

But that doesn’t stop him from wondering.

He thinks about the dream.

He thinks about the sky.

He thinks about the fall.

He thinks about the infinite.

He thinks about the end.

He wonders if he’ll ever reach it.


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: suicide.

It’s cold.

Unbelievably so.

How many days has Kakashi spent crying?

It feels as if his tears have frozen onto his skin. The flesh around his eyes is raw and stiffened all at the same time, tear ducts swollen and dried as the chilling air around him nips at his lashes. Kakashi has lost track of time, unsure of how many minutes, hours, days he has spent wrapped under layers of blankets, crying, crying, _crying_ over things he can’t control, things he can’t _change._

There are voices in his head, but they speak in conjunction. He can barely pick out any words, but he can always hear Obito’s loud and clear.

_People like us…_

_…We can’t work out…_

At some point, Kakashi runs out of tears to cry. His eyes are streaked with reddened fatigue, and for once his vision isn’t blurred by his pain as he stares blankly at the ceiling. Instead, it’s blurred with something else.

_You don’t need me…_

Kakashi knows that isn’t true. He needed Obito, he _always_ needed Obito. His company, his comfort, his love.

_…and I don’t need you._

But did Obito need him?

_Worthless._

_Worthless._

_Worthless._

_Bastard._

Maybe he didn’t.

 _Worthless, worthless, worthless_ – it’s his own voice.

Or maybe it isn’t.

Maybe it’s the drugs.

Maybe it’s the delusions.

Maybe it’s the cold, or maybe it’s the _loneliness._

Kakashi doesn’t know anymore. He doesn’t want to think.

So the voices think for him.

And he needs a distraction.

Any distraction.

-

It’s cold outside. Obito realizes a fraction too late, his fingers feeling as if they will crumble as his grasp on the steering wheel turns excruciatingly stiff. The parka he wears does little to conserve his heat, his entire being filling with an ice-like bitterness every time his mind wanders back to the sting on his cheek. The mark has faded, but the sentiment has not.

Obito grits his teeth.

He wants to be angry.

At the world. At his late father. At his parents. At _Kakashi._

He wants to be angry at anyone, _anyone_ he can be angry with. Because the world is always so damn _unfair_ and sometimes the pain just becomes too much to bear. At least when he’s angry, he can forget about the pain. At least when he’s angry, he can feel something other than humiliation, other than betrayal, other than confusion and frustration and every other little thing that pricks and pries and tears him apart.

Obito wants to be angry.

He so desperately wants to be angry.

But he isn’t.

He wants to scream, he wants to cry, he wants to break everything, everyone who has caused him pain.

But he doesn’t.

The car drifts as he turns, but he barely bats a lash. It’s Tuesday, and his phone is blowing up with messages from his mother, from his father, but he doesn’t care. Obito couldn't care less about them or school or _home_ or the whole damn world anymore. He barely cares about _himself,_ the sound of the engine roaring to life as he continues to speed down the road drowning out all thoughts, all awareness, all logic and reason and every little drip of sorrow left in his being.

His fingers are stiff and he feels so cold. So damn cold and _alone._

He needs a distraction.

Any distraction.

-

Music plays softly from his speakers. Kakashi listens mutely to the piano, the soft harmony from the strings, the mesmerizing tune that sways his ears, shakes his skin.

Kakashi remembers this song well. He remembers hearing it over and over again as a child, watching silently from the other end of the room as his little brother danced across the mirrors, hands drifting naturally through the air, toes grazing the surface of their floor like leaves in a pond. His eyes were closed, allowing the music to guide his body, a song so soft and so simple, capable of capturing the senses with a single riff, like breathing life into settled dust.

His brother had always been a captivating dancer despite his age. He possessed a natural balance between strength and delicacy, an enthralling vision that no one dared look away from, and the amount of ribbons and trophies displayed in the case by the mirrors always reminded them of Sukea’s many achievements.

Kakashi never found a similar balance. He would always teeter to one end or the other, but listening to this song, remembering moments like this, Kakashi feels as if he can at least _pretend_ he found the same balance. It’s a fragile lie. He knows that as soon as he opens his eyes, the illusion will shatter.

So instead he loses himself in the soft hum of the piano, feels the reverberations of every hammer against the string, allows the softest notes to tingle his bones. For a moment, Kakashi feels like a little kid again. He feels Sukea’s hand in his as he coaxes him away from the couch and onto the dance floor, hears his little brother’s bubbling laughter as Kakashi stumbles and struggles to keep up with the graceful precision of Sukea’s own movements. Kakashi feels the heat on his own cheeks as he trips for the thousandth time, bruises accumulating on his knees but the cyclic rhythm of tuplets drawing him back up.

The piece of the present approaches its end, but Kakashi hits replay before the final note can ring. He settles back against his sheets, eyes still closed as little colors like heartbeats swirl through the darkness, and he’s taken to the past once more.

 _“Dancing,”_ Sukea would tell him, _“is about learning to not be afraid.”_

To not be afraid. Anxiety courses naturally through Kakashi’s nerves, it is difficult for a person like him to not be afraid. Not when every little sound, every little image can mark him either sane or insane. It was worse back then, because Kakashi did not know what those things were, what exactly it was he was afraid of. The idea of learning to not be afraid had always seemed so impossible.

_“You let go of your fears. You reach out like this, and then down like this—”_

Everything is much easier for a prodigy. Sukea moved as if it was his nature. He could make the simple action of raising his hand look graceful, while Kakashi still struggled to stand upright without slouching. Sukea would guide him anyways, hand in hand, step by step, until their arms and toes became sore. But they were too giggly to notice, lost in their little dance together in a room of mirrors, their own personal spotlight.

 _“Each step,”_ Sukea would say as he hopped from one position to another, _“is more freeing than the last! Kind of like walking through the air! On clouds! Through the sky!”_ There’s a sparkle in his eyes that sets Kakashi in awe. _“And then you keep going and going and going until you finally reach it!”_

Kakashi would then pause. Tilt his head to the side. Blink blankly at his little brother, whose smile seemed to shine with purity. _“Reach what?”_ Kakashi would ask after a moment, short of breath, dizzy but curious all the same.

Sukea would pause, considering the question, and then he would plié, pirouette, and land on his toes before bowing a deep bow, giggles erupting from his lips as Kakashi dazedly clapped his hands together in applause. He would meet Kakashi’s gaze once more, arms spread out like a gliding bird.

 _“The end, of course!”_ Sukea would tell him, and Kakashi would only stare back, clueless. _“You keep going and going until you finally reach the end! Then after it ends, you can bow and smile and thank everyone for coming to see you. You can finally open your eyes and see again!”_

 _See again? “Are your eyes closed when you dance?”_ Kakashi would ask, confused as to what his little brother meant.

 _“Yes, well, no, I don’t mean it like that,”_ Sukea would answer a bit sheepishly. He would tap a finger to his chin, pondering the question for a moment before continuing on once more, _“I mean, when you’re dancing, all you really think about…all you really see is yourself. It’s just you up there, your dance, your song, your thoughts. It’s all you.”_ Sukea would point to a mirror, Kakashi following the gesture and blinking quietly at his own reflection. _“But when it all ends, you get to see more than yourself. You get to see mom and dad in the audience, teachers, classmates.”_ One by one, people appear in the surrounding mirrors, all clapping, smiling, cheering for more. Kakashi’s lips would part in fascination before he set his gaze back onto his little brother, Sukea’s warm smile a comforting sight _. “When it’s just yourself, it’s kind of like you’re in a dream. No one else is really there but you. Then the dance, the music, the dream is over. You wake up, you open your eyes. And you can see everyone. You can see the world.”_

 _“The world…”_ Kakashi would echo quietly to himself. It seemed too big. To the little boy he was, it seemed impossible to see the world. He was far too small.

 _“After you open your eyes, it’s over,”_ Sukea would continue. _“The show, after everything you’ve been through, practicing, practicing, practicing, it’s over. It’s all over!”_ Sukea would smile once more, taking Kakashi’s hand and leading him back to the couch, knowing that his older brother was much too tired to do anything more.

 _“Over?”_ Kakashi would say, a bit awed by the prospect as he settled back against the cushions.

 _“Over,”_ Sukea would answer, hands placed on his hips as he stared down at Kakashi. _“And finally,”_ Sukea would say, then all at once, he would allow his shoulders to relax, a deep exhale escaping his lips as his eyes settled into little crescents, _“you can breathe again.”_

_You can breathe again._

The music finally ends. The Kakashi of the present opens his eyes, vision swirling for just a moment before settling in place.

Silence surrounds him.

His feet touch the ground, and for a hazy moment, he feels as if he is walking on air.

-

Obito leaves his car by the outskirts of the decaying town. He is nearly an hour away from home, but this is what he needed, he tells himself. He needs to be _away,_ even for just a little while.

The dust that seems to settle as he walks down the streets reminds him of creaking ceilings and spoiled food rotting in an unplugged refrigerator. He hears his father’s voice faintly in the back of his mind, a haunting breath that reeks of blood. When he stares up at the crumbling buildings before him, his father’s voice seems to come to life. That smile, that thin and empty smile manifests itself in the boarded windows and the ivy crawling up rusted pipes. Obito sees needles in the broken bottles that litter the sidewalk, a camera lens through the crooked streetlamps.

Such thoughts are pushed to the back of his mind. He wants a distraction from it all, a distraction from his spinning wheel of a life, so his feet take him to the place he once treated as an escape from his father’s songbird voice, from the gripping ice of reality.

Obito’s eyes settle on slopes of gray concrete, rusted rails telling tales that no one will ever hear, graffiti covering the surface of its bruises and bloodstains of people who come and go. Obito tries to recall the last time he had been here, but the memory feels so far away. Perhaps a year ago, perhaps even longer than that. It was a time before his mother’s return, a time before his father’s death, a time before he met Kakashi, a time before he started to pretend as if there really was a future waiting for him. His tongue tastes bitter, and his hands slip into the pockets of his jacket, searching for his pack of cigarettes.

A group of boys more or less Obito’s age sit on the rim of a quarter pipe, bottles wrapped in paper bags clinking against the concrete as they laugh boisterously amongst themselves. A girl sits in the center of the half pipe on the other end of the park, tattoos residing on the surface of her arms, pieces of chalk crumbling to dust between her fingers as she scrawls symbol after symbol across the pavement. Another girl stands at the edge behind her, a lost look in her eyes as vapor slips past her lips.

There’s something unsettling about being back here, to a place he had almost forgotten. The sights are familiar yet unfamiliar all at the same time. Memories stir, but he pushes them back. He didn’t come here to think.

Obito feels his phone vibrate against his leg, but he lights a cigarette instead, leaning back against a wall and closing his eyes, breath exiting his lungs like ash.

He hears drunken laughter in the background once more, and his brows crease as he’s suddenly brought back to the schoolyard, just a little boy with scabbed knees and dirty nails, hunched over the asphalt in a fragmented daze. He hears children shouting, _laughing_ that drunken laugh as they push him over, teasing him relentlessly for failing to catch the ball and brashly calling his mother names he had never heard of before. The laughter rises in volume, and in the present, Obito’s fingers tighten around his cigarette as he watches the little boy of the past get up with tense shoulders and reddened eyes, little hands clenching into fists that will bruise as they collide with jaws, mind forever marred with filthy words about his family he would have to learn quicker than the things taught in class.

That little boy grows up, and he is taller, bigger, and he is no longer unfamiliar with the titles the town has given him, finding more comfort in breaking people’s bones and braiding his sister’s hair than sitting in school and searching for a life worth living. That boy is trapped, he longs to be free but sees no way out.

And then he meets another boy, a boy with hazy eyes who has lived a life of unfamiliar names, too. This boy is difficult to break open. But his hazy eyes one day focus onto him, and in them, the boy who longs to be free finally finds a life worth living, the hope he needs to finally crawl his way out.

But the image shatters. Both boys fall apart. Drunken laughter fills Obito’s ears again, and the little boy is back on the ground with scabbed knees and dirty nails, with anger dictating his every move, with innocence lost and in its place an emptiness that consumes him like a withered flower.

Obito opens his eyes, his spent cigarette dropping to the ground and joining the rest. He hasn’t realized how many he’s burned through, too busy staring at the figure right in front of him. Obito doesn’t flinch despite their proximity.

“I haven’t seen you here in a long time,” the figure says, a coy look in his eyes. “Finally found someone to fill that empty space in your hollow chest?”

His gaze, like his words, is teasing as he settles against the wall beside Obito, but Obito does not blink. _Mizuki,_ he suddenly remembers, and Obito vaguely recalls spending a night or two with this person long ago. Obito finally leans away, mind drifting to a body littered with scars. The thought pierces his chest. He swallows but remains silent.

“Obito, right?” Mizuki’s voice lingers in the air, lips curled in a bawdy smile.

Obito still does not respond, only reaching into his pocket for another smoke.

Mizuki stares closely at Obito for a moment before releasing a breathy sigh. “Or maybe not,” he says breezily, waving his hand mockingly through the air. “No, you can’t be _that_ Obito. The Obito I knew had far more to offer than _petty_ silence.”

Obito frowns. “I’m not in the mood, Mizuki,” he utters wearily, fumbling with his lighter as he struggles to strike a flame. It takes multiple flicks of his fingers, but not even a spark.

Mizuki lets out an obnoxious laugh at Obito’s expense. “No way, he _definitely_ isn’t you,” Mizuki says in between his giggles, and Obito feels his jaw clench. “He can’t be you. The Obito _I_ knew didn’t look quite so…” he smirks, eyes scanning Obito from head to toe, _“little.”_

Obito lets out a low sigh. “What do you want?”

“What do I want? Someone to play with, that’s all,” Mizuki says with a wink, bumping his hip against Obito’s. “Haven’t seen you here in almost a year, and I kind of missed your broody face. Makes a guy curious as to what could have possibly happened back home to bring you back to a place like this. Got a story to tell?”

“I wouldn’t tell you even if I had one,” Obito utters drily.

“Hmmm,” Mizuki hums. “You seem bitter. Lose some money in a bet? Or did your parents throw you out onto the streets? Or was it a fight with someone you loved?” 

Obito stills.

And Mizuki smirks. “Seems I hit it home.” Obito only swallows, shifting to light his cigarette. “Did he steal your money and flee the country? Or cheat, maybe?” Still no sparks. “Oh, maybe he broke a little promise, a cute, _little_ promise and left you _absolutely_ heartbroken.” Obito’s grip on his lighter tightens, and Mizuki lets out a low laugh. “Bingo.”

His finger strikes the lighter once more, and fire erupts from its tip like a hand clutching for the surface.

-

The music ends.

Kakashi does not hit replay.

Instead, he finds himself in the corner of his room, shivering as he feels the winds of his mind swirl around him. His heart stretches painfully in his chest because the music is over and so is the dance and the memories of him and his brother together. Kakashi never learns what it’s like to step through the air, on the clouds, in the sky. He can’t remember anymore, the memories are fading far too quickly.

_You ruined him. You ruined him. You ruined him._

Instead, reality comes rushing back to him.

_You ruined him. You ruined him. You ruined him._

A pair of ballet shoes seal themselves in a dusty box, sitting on a shelf in a forgotten closet.

_You ruined him. You ruined him. You ruined him._

A boy hangs desperately onto two bars as he struggles to take a single step.

_You ruined him. You ruined him. You ruined him._

He collapses as soon as his grip loosens. It takes two people to pick him back up.

_I ruined him._

Kakashi tugs at his hair, the strands pulling his head from one side to the next. He squeezes his eyes shut and everything goes black.

Then white.

Then gray.

He sees a room, and a little candlelight.

He sees his brother’s small hands.

He sees the flicker of a heartbeat and the shadows crawl along the walls.

He sees a flash and his world is inverted.

He feels his hands around a neck, and when Kakashi looks, he sees _Obito._ His heart stops.

_I ruined him._

Kakashi’s eyes open, and it all disappears. There is no candle, there is no Sukea, there is no Obito. He is alone in his room. He’s always been alone.

Confusion disperses into sadness then loneliness then frustration in seconds. _Sick of it,_ he’s _sick of it._ Delusions, hallucinations, ghosts and shadows, tablets and pills, depression and anxiety, breakdowns and incurable illnesses, crying, crying, all this _crying._ He’s sick of it, _absolutely sick of it._

He just wants to feel normal.

Kakashi’s catches sight of golden letters in the corner. His fingers twitch as the scent of burned paper and herbs fills the room around him.

-

“Come on, dude, lighten up.”

Obito’s breath is more haggard as he blows.

“You look so _tense._ Haven’t gotten any in a while, huh?”

Ashes crumble to the ground. More drunken laughter fills the background, Obito watches as the girl from earlier begins to chalk in stars. A hand lightly grazes his arm. “I can change that,” Mizuki says in a coy tone, but Obito only scoffs, leaning away once more.

“I’m not interested,” Obito murmurs.

“Come on,” Mizuki pushes, an arm leaning against the wall as he eyes Obito with that same leer. “My place isn’t too far away. Got some rush and some E, you used to love that shit.”

 _“Used to,”_ Obito repeats, and he remembers little white tablets dancing across a table, pooling on the carpet, Kakashi’s tears dripping onto his shoulder as Obito holds him through his nightmares. “Still not interested.”

Mizuki lets out a dramatic sigh. “Man, what a _drag._ First you won’t tell me about your stupid ex—” Obito flinches at the term, “and now _this?_ What happened to you? What happened to the Obito that didn’t give a damn about life?” 

Obito feels his phone vibrate against his leg again. Words hang on the tip of his tongue, but he bites them back. “Maybe he changed,” Obito utters with no real emotion, and another wilted cigarette finds itself on the concrete.

Mizuki laughs, a hit of bitterness in his own voice. Obito decides not to comment on it. “People never change,” he says. “They just get better at pretending.”

Obito eyes Mizuki for a moment, irritation sparking a vein in his head, but he pauses, memories of Kakashi’s figure on a rooftop, gazing over a skyline in silence. He remembers Kakashi’s many secrets, he remembers Kakashi’s many promises. He remembers trusting Kakashi over everyone else in the damn world, and he remembers that trust being betrayed.

_Pretending._

Perhaps Kakashi had been pretending all along.

Obito wonders if he let himself get dragged along for the ride. Had he been pretending, too? He wonders if he let himself fall for Kakashi, let himself _believe_ in Kakashi just so that the little _bastard_ without a future could pretend he had _some_ value, _some_ worth, _some_ purpose in life other than to rot in a town that had buried him alive.

Perhaps they used each other, just so that they could pretend like they truly did matter in this world. If only for a moment.

Another cigarette hangs from his lips. He no longer feels the high he used to. But the taste of smoke is better than the bitter taste of truth.

-

A page falls out of the Bible and onto his floor. It’s too small. The rest of the page hangs lopsidedly out of the book’s spine. Kakashi grits his teeth and turns to another page, tearing at the paper but producing nothing but another uneven piece.

His hands are shaking far too much.

It frustrates him. He does not understand why he is shaking.

Perhaps he is nervous. He hasn’t done this in quite a while, vaguely recalling the time Genma had come to the shop in search for Obito, leaving Kakashi with quite an interesting package. He had been slightly interested at the time but ignored the temptation, insistent on remaining clean. Kakashi cannot recall why he had rejected himself, memory muddled by the stress of the past weekend, his heart too heavy to allow his mind to think properly.

His nerves continue to shake his fingers.

Kakashi rips another page out of the Bible, but again it amounts to nothing. His system begins to fill with an almost overwhelming sense of helplessness, unable to do anything as his fingers continue to struggle to tear page after page out. He feels the sudden urge to sob, feeling foolish for such a miniscule thing, but he can’t help it. Every little bit of the world seems to have it out for him. He was never good, he was never strong, he was never right, he was never _normal._ Why should the world treat him like he was?

 _People like us,_ Kakashi recalls Obito saying.

_The world is never fair to people like us._

_Never. Never. Never._

Maybe…maybe he deserved it. Maybe Kakashi deserved this after all.

His hand clutches another page, paper wrinkling terribly in his grasp.

“What’s wrong?” he hears, and Kakashi looks up, watching as Nagato settles in the cushion beside him, a novel in one hand, concern written over his features.

Kakashi barely blinks, gazing back down at the Bible in his lap, humiliation coloring his cheeks at the pitiful image he knows he must be presenting. His fingers continue to shake, and again he remembers who he is. Who he _really_ is, the Hatake Kakashi who broke all of his toys, the Hatake Kakashi who pushed away boys and girls who got too close, the Hatake Kakashi who struck people on instinct, the Hatake Kakashi who grabbed his little brother by the neck and beat him in the dark, the Hatake Kakashi who continued to hurt people, _over and over and over again,_ lying and lying and _lying_ to everyone he loves. The Hatake Kakashi who broke Obito’s trust.

And the Hatake Kakashi who didn’t deserve his forgiveness.

He didn’t deserve any of their forgiveness.

The world was right to hate him.

“I don’t think I can do this,” Kakashi whispers. The prospect of ripping pages out of the Bible suddenly feels daunting, suddenly feels _wrong._ It never did before, but maybe that was because Kakashi hadn’t realized it back then. Maybe it was because he hadn’t realized how despicable he truly was.

Nagato leans over, his presence like static as Kakashi feels his skin begin to shiver.

“Maybe,” Nagato says, voice gentle as it always is, like a small petal drifting with the breeze, “you should read each page before you tear them out. To lessen the burden. Maybe then, you might feel more at peace.”

Kakashi bites his lip. He had never been religious. He knew of heaven and hell but never truly pondered the prospect of it all. Angels, devils, gods and miracles. Kakashi never had a reason to believe in a god. So he doesn’t.

Perhaps that’s his sin.

And this is his hell.

Kakashi stares down at the passage hesitantly, eyes skimming over tiny lines, words slightly smudged and so tightly packed that the idea of reading feels far-fetched, like another flightless dream.

But he has nothing else. He is alone in this world now, and perhaps the words from an ancient time can provide him the company he needs. So he reads.

And when he is done, he tears the page out in one swift movement, a full sheet of paper between his fingers like a final prayer.

-

Obito’s eyes never leave the girl scribbling across the concrete. The circle of symbols surrounds her like an enveloping shadow, darker and darker as scribbles begin to overlap. Her pace is frantic, almost as if she is afraid her work will somehow wash away. The group on the quarter pike and the other girl from earlier have already left, leaving Obito alone with Mizuki and the girl with chalk-dusted knees.

“You want her or something, _Uchiha?”_ Mizuki provokes, slight amusement in his tone as he observes Obito from the side. “You’ve been staring at her for what feels like centuries now.”

Obito ignores the crude comment, tapping a bit of ash off of the end of his cigarette. “What’s up with her?” he asks instead, watching as the girl rakes her fingers through her hair, dust settling in her dark locks as she bends over to continue marking the ground.

Mizuki glances over at the girl in disinterest. He gives an indifferent shrug, crossing his arms over his chest. “She comes here once every week. I don’t exactly know what is wrong with her, but people say she has some sort of disorder.”

“Disorder…” Obito echoes, and the girl grabs another piece of chalk, wasting no breath as she dives forward once more. Circle upon curl upon line upon corner. More and more symbols bloom all around her.

“Yeah,” Mizuki murmurs. “Don’t remember. Some sort of paranoia... paranoid… bipolar… _something._ I don’t know.” He lets out a snort. “She’s crazy.”

Obito swallows. “You wouldn’t know.”

Mizuki guffaws. “You see her, too, right? The symbols? Everything?” Obito does not say anything. “Go over there and see it for yourself, dude. She thinks she’s solving some sort of alien conspiracy language or something. Every time she comes here, she writes all of these strange symbols in a circle all around her. Eventually it all gets washed away, and she comes back and rewrites everything like the fate of the earth depends on it.” Mizuki lets out an indignant scoff.

Obito feels his throat go dry. “She can’t help it.”

“Sure she can’t,” Mizuki retorts with another scoff. “She’s fucking insane, dude. No other way to put it. Must’ve taken one too many strips of LSD and gone absolutely _insane.”_

The girl crawls over to the perimeter of the circle, starting a new ring of symbols, chalk slowly disintegrating between her fingers. Her clothes are coated with blue and green and pink, the pastels of her chalk dust clinging to her dark sleeves persistently. Obito blinks, and for a moment, he sees ivy. He sees a ring of ivy that engulfs a statue with white eyes.

“What’s wrong with you, man?” Mizuki suddenly says, and Obito glances back at him in annoyance.

“What’s wrong with me?” Obito repeats, irritation evident in his tone. “Stop asking me that shit. Nothing’s _wrong_ with me.”

Mizuki fixes him with a look of disbelief. “Nothing. Yeah. Right. I don’t remember you ever being this damn _soft_ before. About a year ago you probably would have spat all over her fucking drawings.” Mizuki jerks his head towards the girl for emphasis. “Now you’re playing white knight.”

Obito feels his jaw tense, irritation swelling in his system at Mizuki’s words. Who was he to judge him? Obito never thought himself as that type of person. He had always been indifferent when it came to others, finding far too much trouble with involving himself in the personal details of strangers. To hear Mizuki speak as if he knew him, a random _fuck_ he hasn’t seen in almost a _year,_ talk about Obito as if he knew who he really was pissed him off.

“You don’t know _shit_ about me,” Obito spits, cigarette crushed in his fist. It falls to the ground like the others, but when he reaches for another stick, he comes up empty. He wants _more,_ unable to accept this bitter taste on his tongue, fingers itching for another hit.

“Maybe so, but I know the type,” Mizuki remarks drily, and Obito gazes back at him with an unreadable expression on his face. “Dark and brooding. Thinks the world is out to get him. Thinks the world is unfair. Never bothers to trust anyone because it’s you against the whole _fucking_ world. Careless. Reckless. Will probably die having accomplished nothing. An early death, too. Alone.” Mizuki lets out a little laugh. “Unloving and unloved. It’s easy to spot the sort.”

“Well, aren’t you some sort of fucking _god?”_ Obito cracks his neck to the side. “Don’t talk about people like you know anything about them. Pieces of shit like you are what’s wrong with this damn world.” 

“Ha. Pretty rich coming from you.”

“Fuck _off.”_

“You used to be fun to hang around, Uchiha,” Mizuki says with a dramatic sigh. “But now you’re _soft._ Soft and _boring._ I take it back, maybe people do change after all. Some become better, some become worse. You, _you_ though, Uchiha, you just became a little _bitch.”_ Mizuki lets out another obnoxious laugh, and Obito has to suppress the urge to rip his throat out.

Obito swallows, phone vibrating against his leg once more and hand automatically slipping the device out to check it. The screen flashes missed calls from both of his parents, but just as he’s about to put his phone away, Mizuki suddenly snatches it out of his hands. “What the fuck?” Obito snaps, reaching out to grab his phone, but Mizuki merely steps out of the way.

“Aww, are your mommy and daddy calling you?” Mizuki teases, tapping at Obito’s phone in an obnoxious manner. “Gosh, nearly 20 missed calls? They must really be worried about their precious baby boy!”

“Go fuck yourself,” Obito growls, successfully managing to snatch his phone back and shoving the device back into his pocket.

“Only if you watch,” Mizuki remarks, and Obito lets out a scoff. “Funny,” he continues with a smirk, hands brushing through his hair in a nonchalant, “you never mentioned having a mom or dad. Always assumed you were some sort of bastard or orphan or _something.”_ Mizuki pauses, a thought seeming to cross his head. “Hey, aren’t you from that town an hour over?” he asks. “I heard some shit went down with some lunatic and his bastard children. Shit was all over the news here, too. You heard about it?”

Obito feels his blood go cold, his eyes automatically darkening as he turns around, deciding he’s had enough of this conversation.

“…So you _have_ heard about it!” Mizuki calls, running to catch up to Obito’s brisk pace. “Did you find out whatever happened to his kids? Poor bastards, man. Literally. Probably crawling all over the streets over there, huh?”

Obito’s hands clench by his sides, nails digging into the palms of his hands.

“Come on, Uchiha!” Mizuki persists, still hot on Obito’s heels despite Obito’s blatant disregard for his presence. “I just want to know where the poor fucks might be hanging around. You know. So I can keep an eye out for them. Maybe show them how the world works for scums of the earth like _us.”_

_Like us._

Obito shakes his head, turning the corner and walking down the street. Mizuki’s words continue to taunt him from behind, memories of his father, of Izumi, of those messy months, of his fight with Kakashi, memories, memories, _everything he wanted to forget_ knocking his head from one side to the next.

_Like us._

He doesn’t like the sound of it. Not one bit.

“Where are you even _going?”_ Mizuki yells out from behind.

Obito barely thinks as he shouts back, _“Home,”_ but his breath catches in his throat and his feet stand frozen in place at the sight before him.

The street is nothing but dust.

His car is gone.

-

His skin is warm.

When Kakashi opens his eyes, the world simmers under an ethereal light. Colors are a bit brighter, scents a bit stronger, music, _oh,_ the music, much, _much_ lovelier. His speakers play the same song from before, but it’s different this time. Sounds much better. Much lovelier. Much, _much_ lovelier.

His skin is so, _so_ warm.

“Maybe,” Kakashi says, words like a trail of beads on a string, “maybe all of this time, I was just _jealous.”_

“Jealous?” Nagato repeats from over his book, gazing back at Kakashi intently as smoke dissipated from Kakashi’s teeth.

“Yeah, jealous, you know the feeling,” Kakashi answers with a lazy wave of his hand. “Like, growing up and all, with Sukea. _Man,_ how can I _not_ be jealous? Sukea was a damn dancer! Fancy feet and everything, always getting fancy ribbons and fancy awards and fancy, fancy, _fancy_ clothes. Sukea really had it good.” The Bible nearly slips from his lap, but Kakashi catches it in a second, fingers settling over the opened pages. “And me? I’m a whiny schizophrenic who’s afraid of some _kid_ in a gardening club following me around. I’m even afraid of flowers, fucking _flowers,_ Nagato. Roses! Can you believe that?” Kakashi lets out a laugh. “No wonder I’m fucking _jealous._ While my brother was over there stealing every show he’d ever been in, I was over here talking to the damn shadows in the walls. Those shadows must have been my jealousy speaking for me, honestly. Why else would I attack my baby brother like that? Why else? It’s jealousy, I tell you, _jealousy.”_

“Kakashi, it wasn’t your fault,” Nagato says. “It wasn’t _jealousy,_ it was—”

“It _was_ jealousy, Nagato,” Kakashi insists, joint nearly falling from his fingers as his head lulls back. “It’s such a natural feeling, oh, even those guys in here, in the Bible—” He sits up abruptly, fingers skimming over the page and landing on a passage, “— _Genesis._ The story with those two brothers, Cain and Abel. Oh, god, Nagato, _I’m_ Cain and Sukea is Abel! I killed my little brother – well, I _almost_ killed my brother, because I was jealous! Because god, my parents, they were playing favorites! And then god cursed me because I almost killed my little brother! This is my curse, Nagato! Cursed to have some boy named Iruka follow me around with roses and so, so many nightmares.”

Nagato purses his lips. “Kakashi, Cain did not love his brother. Yes, he was jealous, but he allowed himself to succumb to the evil within him because _he did not love his brother._ His intentions were clearly ill-intended when he purposely led Abel away to be killed. It was different. You love your brother. You regret hurting him, it was never on purpose. You are not Cain. You are not _cursed,_ nor do you deserve to be cursed.”

“Things like that aren’t accidents, Nagato,” Kakashi breathes, smoke swirling through the air. “I should have stopped. But I didn’t. I had to be pulled away. Maybe I really would have killed him if my parents hadn’t pulled me away.”

“You didn’t know what was happening. You didn’t hurt Sukea on _purpose.”_

“How do you know that, Nagato?” Kakashi questions him. “How do you know? How do _I_ know? These thoughts…are they really my own? These voices…are those my own, too? The night was a blur. I see it played over and over again in my nightmares, and even as everything else changes around me, _that_ stays the same. I still hurt him. Over and over and over again. Maybe it _was_ jealousy, Nagato. It only makes sense. My condition has gotten a thousand times worse. It’s a curse for my sins. I have a lot of them, I think. But what I did to Abel, to _Sukea,_ that must top it all.” 

Nagato’s eyes are filled with pain as he shakes his head. “Enough of that, you’re beginning to speak nonsense.” He reaches out to take the Bible from Kakashi’s lap, but Kakashi holds it out of reach. “Kakashi…”

“I’ve always wanted my parents to love me,” Kakashi breathes, eyes drifting from the frayed passages to the colors on the walls. “I remember sitting next to them in the audience as we watched Sukea dance at his recitals. I remember seeing their eyes light up with pride at just the sight of Sukea standing on stage. I remember hearing them brag about Sukea, about his talents and achievements while my name degraded into a taboo whisper in the wind. I just wanted them to love me, but I was never enough. Sukea was, though. He was enough. They _adored_ him. Maybe I thought that if I hurt him, they would finally have room to love _me_ instead?” Kakashi swallows, and his voice cracks as he continues, “Am I really that awful? Am I really that _selfish?”_

“Your parents would never love you for a stunt like that, and you were a fool to believe that they would,” Kakashi hears from his right, and as he does, Iruka settles himself in the vacant cushion, lidded eyes gazing critically at Kakashi. _“Stupid,_ really, is the word you’re looking for.” There’s _amusement_ in Iruka’s eyes, and Kakashi lets out a scoff.

“Nobody asked _you,”_ Kakashi spits out petulantly. “You’re not even real! Why do I still _talk_ to you anyways? When are these damn medications going to kick in for real so I don’t have to look at your stupid face anymore?”

“Because you have no one else to talk to, because only _I_ have been by your side since day one,” Iruka answers simply, patiently, leaning comfortably back against the beanbag. “I’m always with you. I’ve told you before that only _I_ can be there for you. I’ve been there for you when no one else was. Everyone else eventually leaves. Your parents, Sukea, Obito, but I—”

“Don’t say his name,” Kakashi snaps venomously. “Don’t you _dare_ say his name like you know who he is.”

“I _do_ know who he is,” Iruka says calmly. “But you _don’t.”_

“I’m not listening to you—”

“You’re ignoring it now, you’ve blocked it out, but that doesn’t change what he said,” Iruka tells him. “You remember. Deep down you remember. Obito isn’t the person you thought he was, no, the Obito you knew would never hurt you like that. Would _never_ say things like that.”

“It was my fault!” Kakashi protests. “I deserved it. I said such horrible things to him. I pushed him away when I should have listened, it was my fault, all my fault—”

“And _he_ said horrible things to _you,_ too,” Iruka reminds him. “Obito could have stopped himself, but he _didn’t._ He kept going and going, belittling your condition, twisting your words, blocking you out, and of course, _of course,_ what he said at the end—”

“Don’t,” Kakashi grits.

“How little he really thinks of you,” Iruka says with a hum. “You can’t control yourself. Even he knows.”

 _“Don’t,”_ Kakashi begs.

“He’s right, though. He doesn’t have to rely on little pills like you do. He’d never kill himself over petty things like _nightmares.”_

 _“Stop!”_ Kakashi cries out. “Get _out!_ Leave me alone! Get out of my room – my head – get out, get out, get _out!”_

The music ends.

Iruka reaches over and hits replay.

-

Mizuki lets out a choked cough as his head smacks against the side of a wall, eyes burning with pain as he stares bewilderedly back at Obito. Obito’s own eyes are filled with fury, arm pressing against the base of Mizuki’s neck, pinning him in place, no signs of mercy in the way Obito pushes against his throat.

Mizuki’s surprise slowly melts into amusement once more, a smug grin on his face that has Obito seeing red. “Well, _Obito,_ maybe you aren’t so _boring_ after all.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Obito growls, pressing Mizuki further into the wall. “Tell me where the fuck my car is.”

Mizuki lets out a little giggle. “And if I don’t? What will you do?” Obito doesn’t say anything, his pressure on Mizuki’s throat only increasing. Mizuki lets out another choked laugh. “Oh? You’ll _choke_ me?” He smirks. “I _love_ it.”

“I’m fucking serious here, Mizuki, _where is my damn car?”_ Obito demands, eyes filled with warning and enough disarray to express the direness of the situation. He’s _fucked,_ he knows he’s fucked. Without it, he can’t go back home. But that wasn’t what bothered him most. He hated that damn car, he really did, but the thought of it disappearing hurts him more than he’d like to admit. He sees Kakashi in the battered passenger seat, hears his laughter as he props his legs up on the dash. _Fuck._ It can’t go missing, it _can’t…_

Mizuki stares at Obito for a moment longer before swallowing, Obito feeling the lump against his forearm with a slight grimace. “I don’t know,” Mizuki rasps. “I don’t know, and I don’t have any way of knowing.”

Obito grits his teeth. _“Liar.”_

“You _wish,”_ Mizuki retorts. “I was with you the entire time, dumbass. Like I would have somehow taken your car during then.”

Obito’s eyes waver for a moment before hardening once more. _No, no…_ It can’t be gone. It _can’t._ “Then who did?” He sees Kakashi’s head as it lulls to the side, the boy sleeping soundly in his seat, their hands still locked together over the console. _It can’t be gone. It can’t._

“Like I’d know _that_ either?” Mizuki says incredulously, choking a bit when Obito presses against his throat again. “Jesus Christ, it could have been _anyone_ here! I don’t fucking know! There’s enough fuckers here desperate for parts that I wouldn’t be surprised if the whole damn neighborhood had little pieces of your car in each of their homes!”

Obito’s teeth clench together, and his hold on Mizuki’s neck tightens ever so slightly before he releases him all at once, shoving Mizuki away without another glance. _“Get the fuck out of my face,”_ Obito utters, turning away and walking off.

“Wait—”

“Fuck _off!”_ Obito shouts to the air as loud as he can, a middle finger held up in the air as he heads off in the other direction. He vaguely hears laughter ring behind him, but he pays it no mind, instead spotting the bus stop not too far ahead. He lets out an aggravated sigh once he reaches the lone bench, glaring pathetically at the degrading wood as a million thoughts, a million _memories_ run through his head.

He sees Kakashi smiling warmly at him, eyes soft and filled with affection as the moon and stars paint the sky around them. The car was shabby and small, but they never cared in their little moments of intimacy. A hand in hand. A kiss on the cheek. A promise whispered between lips.

They’re gone. _All of it._

Gone.

-

“You’re not real, you’re not real, you’re not real, you’re not _real—”_

“You can tell yourself that all you want, but that doesn’t change the fact that I’m _here._ That I live, that I breathe, that I _think,_ and that _I am.”_

“The roses – they’re not real…the aphids…they’re not real…you’re not, you’re _not!”_

“And what about the marks on your skin? Why are they there? If they aren’t real, why do all of those scars exist?”

“It’s a curse, I’m _cursed—”_

“By what?”

“By god!” Kakashi screams. “I don’t _know_ anymore!”

“Kakashi!” Nagato cries. “Please, calm down!”

“By _god?”_ Iruka repeats, tone condescending and slick with sick amusement. “So god is real but I am _not?”_

“Yes – no – I don’t know!” Kakashi splutters. “You’re not real! I don’t know if there is a god, but _you,_ you don’t exist!”

“And how do I not exist?” Iruka challenges, and Kakashi stares at him blankly. “If god creates all, how could it create what does not exist?”

Kakashi’s tremors begin to disorient him. “No, no, god _didn’t_ create you! I don’t know! I don’t know, I don’t – You’re the _devil! A demon_! You crawled out of hell and into my mind and all you’re doing is driving me to _sin—”_

“Sins are your own choice. Despite all influences, in the end, it’s _your_ decision to give in.”

Kakashi stares pathetically back at Iruka. “Shut up! Shut up! You’re not real, you’re not real, you’re not real—”

“Kakashi!” Nagato finally shouts, and things go silent. Kakashi does not turn to look at him. “This has gone too far—” He reaches out to grab the joint out of Kakashi’s hands, but Kakashi turns away, stumbling up from his spot and running out of his room. Away, away, _away_ from all the sounds, all the colors, all the whispers and screams permeating his mind.

He trips a bit as he settles on the rooftop. Kakashi’s hands grip onto the railings by the edge in an attempt to gather his bearings, the fresh air soothing his lungs but the bitter coldness of the temperature freezing his skin in ice. Kakashi hears his name being called from all around, and he closes his eyes, squeezing them tight, finding it in himself to envision a world of mirrors where it is only him, him alone with his _own_ thoughts, his _own_ perceptions.

-

Obito’s phone vibrates again.

The bus is still not here. The sign reports that it should have arrived approximately 10 minutes ago. Obito wipes his palms against his pants as he checks his phone for the time once more. His battery drains in the corner, and he tries his best not to think too hard about how low it is. His phone continues to vibrate, and he instinctively hits silent, ignoring his mother’s name as it flashes across the screen.

10 minutes.

His heart stirs in his chest. It feels as if something is missing, or perhaps _he_ is missing _something._ The unsettling feeling has him sitting up on the bench, wary of his surroundings, wondering, just _wondering_ if something is about to happen while he is stranded here in another town.

Suddenly the world feels far too big, far too cold and deserted, and he has to hold his parka close to suppress another shiver.

-

Kakashi feels sick, nauseous as he gazes over the railing. Cars sail below, unknowing, uncaring as the world seems to spin everywhere else. His grip tightens, breath dry and eyes strained from the cold. It’s cold, so, _so_ cold. The wind is harsh, but it serves to distract Kakashi from the nauseating feeling, the feeling that spurs him forward as if he is in another dream.

 _This isn’t a dream, this isn’t a dream,_ he tells himself. Because the sky around him is not infinite. There is a ground, a place to fall onto. He will not wake up if he takes that step forward. _This isn’t a dream, this isn’t a dream…_

“I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again,” Iruka breathes beside him. Kakashi flinches. “You don’t belong here. You never did. Not in this town, not in here, _nowhere.”_

Kakashi does not try to fight it. “Then where do I belong?” Is it his medications? His delusions? Or is it him, asking these questions? Giving him answers? Are the voices in his head truly voices, or are they all his own?

Iruka is quiet for a moment, and Kakashi wonders if that’s the end of it. Kakashi has no answers, perhaps that is why Iruka lacks them, too. He hopes, he _hopes_ that this is the end of it. But things are never that easy, and Iruka speaks to affirm it, “You don’t belong anywhere. You have no place in this world.”

Kakashi closes his eyes, shaking his head desperately. “That can’t be true.” His voice cracks.

“There is no place for broken things in a world like this,” Iruka whispers. “In a world that keeps moving forward, people who fall behind will get left behind. You’ve been behind your entire life. It seems that your fate is finally catching up to you.”

“Fate,” Kakashi repeats. “What a stupid word. What am I supposed to become, then?”

“A memory, maybe,” Iruka says.

Kakashi lets out a humorless laugh. “I’m hopeless. I’m so hopeless. Standing here, talking to you, letting some figment of my imagination strip me down into nothing.”

“You are not hopeless, you are not _nothing,”_ Nagato tells him. “There is a place for you in this world—”

“And what place is _that?”_ Kakashi breathes, feeling more and more parts of him crumble as the breeze continues to shift around him. “Really…all I’ve ever done is break down. I can barely wake up without wanting to vomit…I can barely make it through another day by myself…I can barely, _barely_ do anything. What could _I_ possibly be to this world but another sad story?”

“You have people who care about you, Kakashi,” Nagato says passionately. “People like me, like your brother, like your uncle, like _Obito._ You took a place in all of their worlds, and you _have_ to keep going. For _them.”_

Kakashi lets out a dry scoff. “Life is easier without a person like me. You and uncle won’t have to look after me. Sukea could have kept dancing. Obito…” Kakashi bites his lip.

Nagato gives him a sad look. “You’ll hurt him if you leave.”

“I already hurt him,” Kakashi whispers. “I’ve already ruined my one place in this world. There’s nothing left.”

Silence falls. Tears drip from Kakashi’s lashes. There’s pain, his chest throbbing with pain, and he crouches down, gazing silently over the edge of the roof. For a moment, he wishes he were in a dream. Then he could step over the edge. Then he could fall. Then he could wake up, and he would wake up in Obito’s arms. They would smile at each other and speak of a future so bright and far away, a future where they can be happy _together._ Kakashi would wake up and find himself with a clear mind, able to breathe, _think_ clearly, independently. Kakashi wants to wake up, he wishes he _could._

But this isn’t a dream.

“It’s because of _you,”_ Kakashi hears Nagato say abruptly, and he frowns, turning his head to stare back at Nagato, the man harboring an anger in his eyes that Kakashi has never seen before. “It’s all because of _you.”_

“Nagato,” Kakashi says, pity in his features, getting up from the ground and turning to look at him. “I’m sorry—”

“It’s because of _you_ that he feels so hopeless, so troubled and lost and _hopeless!”_ Nagato shouts, and Kakashi freezes, his breath leaving his lungs as he watches Nagato shove Iruka backwards, the latter stumbling against the railing. “All you’ve ever done is _scare_ him, scare and ridicule him until he has nowhere else to turn to. Pulling him in circles and _confusing_ him!”

“I’m only telling him the _truth,”_ Iruka snaps back, straightening out his clothes with a disgusted scoff. “No reason to delude him further with false hopes and flowery words. The world is cold and has no room for dreamers like him. He either learns to face reality or waste away in a fantasy.”

Kakashi can’t move.

“What do you have to gain from _tormenting_ him like this?”

“And what do _you_ have to gain from protecting him like this? From shielding him away from reality like some sort of sheltered _child—_ ”

“You speak as if he has no hope, as if there aren’t people out there who he means the _world_ to—”

“People come and go. They learn and then they forget. They’ll just forget about him. They don’t need him, and he certainly doesn’t need _them.”_

Kakashi’s hands begin to shake.

He remembers the day he first met Iruka. Then the day he first met Nagato.

_No._

_No._

_No._

_You aren’t real._

Nagato and Iruka both look up, eyes trained on Kakashi as the boy falls to the ground once more.

_You aren’t real, you aren’t real, you aren’t real._

_Kakashi._

Kakashi’s eyes fill with tears. 

_Learn to trust someone for once._

Those were Nagato’s words from so long ago.

_Nagato’s._

_Nagato’s. Nagato’s. Nagato’s._

_Or were they the medications?_

_Or were they the delusions?_

_Or were they mine?_

-

_15%._

Obito’s phone is at 15%.

His finger scrolls through missed calls and messages once more. All from his parents. A part of him wishes Kakashi had called. The thought had appeared out of nowhere, and it is only then does he realize how much he misses Kakashi. He hadn’t seen or heard of him since their fight that weekend, and though it’s only been a few days, he truly, _truly_ misses him.

Obito’s mind drifts back to Mizuki, to the girl in the skate park, to even the other burnouts scattered across the ground. He remembers being like them at one point, the carelessness, the apathy, the general sense of hopelessness. He remembers thinking that it was there that he truly belonged. A place where _no one belonged._ Despite longing to run away, longing to be _free,_ deep down Obito had always known that it was impossible for a person like him. Impossible for him to break free.

But then he met Kakashi.

Then he met Kakashi, a boy who continued to fight, to push forward even as the odds stacked against him. A boy whose mind was his greatest obstacle, a boy who continued to push not only himself but _Obito_ forward as well. Kakashi, who said that they would run away together, find a future together, a future that only the two of them can have. The odds seemed even bigger, but it was only by Kakashi’s side did Obito truly feel like he had a chance.

A real chance to be free.

 _It wasn’t pretend._ Obito knows it was real. He can be angry all he wants and pretend like the world still conspires against him, but Obito knows his true feelings. Kakashi is the only person who has ever given him any hope in this life, the only person who has endured so much for his sake. They believed in each other, and they broke each other.

They both took things too far that day. Obito knows that Kakashi couldn’t help himself, and to an extent, Obito couldn’t either. Kakashi only wanted what he thought was the best for Obito, and he should’ve known better than to provoke Kakashi when the younger was struggling with his medications.

Obito frowns.

He wants to make things right.

He doesn’t want to be like Mizuki. He doesn’t want to become that _worthless_ bastard everyone thinks he is. He wants a future, a real future. For him. For Izumi. For _Kakashi._ Such things feel far away, so unreachable, but he wants it. He wants to change.

_People don’t change._

Obito scoffs at the notion.

He will.

-

With every step, it feels as if he’s walking on thorns.

Rose petals guide his path.

He feels aphids on his skin, _in_ his skin, crawling, pushing, begging to be let out.

_They’re not real, they’re not real, they’re not real._

He can hear Nagato and Iruka. He can still hear them.

 _They’re not real, they’re not real –_ his heart breaks as he recites it – _they’re not real, they were never real._

_Medications._

His medications.

He can’t remember if he took them already.

Did he?

If he did, he wouldn’t be seeing these things, right? He wouldn’t be hearing these things, right?

_Don’t take them._

Iruka.

_They’re not good for you._

_Go away, go away, go away,_ if he takes his meds, maybe they’ll finally go away.

_It isn’t magic._

_They don’t just disappear._

_I don’t care. I don’t care. Just go away._

_You’re not thinking properly._

Nagato, that sounded like Nagato.

Kakashi lets out a whimper.

_This is dangerous._

_Go away, go away, go away—_

_Listen to yourself, Kakashi—_

_Get out! Just get out! All of you! You aren’t – none of you – all of you aren’t real!_

_You have to calm down—_

_Don’t subject yourself to that poison—_

_I don’t want to listen to you! Neither of you! All of you!_

_Kakashi—_

_Kakashi—_

Kakashi stops, the bathroom light flickering on as he stares blankly at his reflection. He looks so tired, so tired and _broken._

 _Kakashi,_ it’s Nagato, again. _Kakashi, please, just listen to me._

_I won’t._

_Please._

_I can’t._

_Kakashi._

_I trusted you._

_I’m sorry._

_No, you’re not._

_I am._

_You can’t be sorry. You’re not real._

_Kakashi._

_Medications._ He needs his medications. The world swirls around him, colors and shapes and shadows seem to swim across the walls. His mirror morphs his appearance into that of someone else. He doesn’t recognize that person.

Kakashi reaches into the bathroom cabinet and struggles to steady his hands. A few bottles are knocked over and scatter across the sink, pills slipping and sliding across the porcelain. Old prescriptions, new prescriptions, pink, blue, yellow, orange, everywhere, _everywhere. White,_ he’s looking for white.

His hands won’t stop shaking.

 _White._ He finds one. He swallows.

_You’re making a mistake._

He can still hear them.

He finds another. He swallows.

_You’re not thinking straight._

Another.

_Kakashi._

Another.

_Kakashi._

Another.

_Kakashi!_

_Why?_ Kakashi lets out a gasp, falling helplessly onto the floor as his throat burns mercilessly. _Why do I still hear them?_

_Kakashi!_

_Spit them out!_

_Take them out before it’s too—_

Kakashi lets out a cry, curling desperately against the floor.

_Stop, please._

_Kakashi!_

_Please, just stop._

-

10%.

And another 10 minutes wasted.

Obito flexes his fingers, rolling his lip between his teeth as he stares silently down at his phone. There are no signs of a bus. He sees his mother’s number at the top of his screen. His finger hovers over her name.

A breeze brushes past him, and he lets out a shiver. The weather seems to have gotten even colder, signs of dusk setting in the sky. He gives in as he finally hits the call button, the desire to go home, to see Kakashi _stronger_ than his pride.

The line rings. He swallows when his mother picks up.

He can’t stop shivering.

He isn’t sure why.

-

_Music._

_I can hear music._

_It’s Sukea. It’s Sukea’s music._

_Kakashi!_

_Sukea?_

_Dance! I want to dance with you!_

_I can’t dance. I’m no good at all._

_I’ll show you how, come on. The music is so pretty, don’t you like the music?_

_I do, Sukea. The music is very pretty._

_Then let’s dance! We can dance together, look, we can dance right now!_

_I’ll look like an idiot out there…_

_No, you won’t! All you have to do is take a few steps, a few steps is all you need._

_I don’t think it’s that simple._

_Not if you don’t try. Please, Kakashi? Please, just this once? I want to dance with you, we never dance anymore!_

_That’s because I hurt you, Sukea. You can’t dance anymore._

_But I’m fine! I’m not hurt! I can dance right now, just like this. Please, Kakashi? Listen to the music! Don’t you like it?_

_I do._

_Then let’s dance!_

_But I’m scared._

_What are you afraid of?_

_I don’t know._

_Oh, Kakashi. There’s nothing to be afraid of, not while you’re dancing. Close your eyes if you have to. Just listen to the music and move, let it take you away, let yourself forget about your fears, your problems, even for just a little while. At least until the music ends._

_Until it ends?_

_Yes, until it ends. And then the dance will end too, and then we can bow._

_Do I have to bow?_

_Yes, silly! You always bow at the end of a performance! You bow and thank everyone for coming, and then it all ends. And then you can let out that breath you’ve been holding._

_Breath?_

_Yes. That sweet breath of relief._

-

The call with his mother had given him a headache. He avoided every question pertaining to _why_ he ran away to some town an hour away, adamant on simply being picked up from his place. He also ignored the lecture on his car, on his irresponsibility, but Obito did not yell back at her. He did not shout or raise his voice. He simply sat silently on the line, waited for her to stop, and then told her his location. Then the call ended, and Obito is left here in the freezing weather. It isn’t even winter yet – it almost is – but the weather has been absolutely ridiculous lately. Or maybe it’s just today. He doesn’t care to think into it too much.

 _Shivering._ He can’t stop _shivering._

He moves to turn off his phone in an effort to conserve what little battery he has left when the screen suddenly changes, Obito nearly dropping the device when Kakashi’s name flashes before him.

Obito’s heart skips a beat.

 _Kakashi. God,_ he really misses Kakashi. He hurriedly picks up the call, sitting up a bit straighter on the bench as he clears his throat.

“Kakashi,” he greets, a bit breathlessly, the name feeling so right on his tongue. He misses him, _he misses him so much._

There’s silence on the other end, and Obito frowns a little, glancing back at his phone to check if he really did accept the call. The line is on, and he calls out for his boyfriend once more in confusion.

 _“…Obito,”_ Kakashi finally says, and Obito lets out a breath of relief. _“I know this dance now. It’s kind of hard, but I can do it now. The dance.”_

Obito pauses, confusion filling his eyes. _Dance?_ “What?”

 _“I can show you how to do it, too,”_ Kakashi continues, his voice like the soft patter of rain over the phone. _“It’s kind of fun. I want to do it with you. The dance. Let’s dance together—”_

“Wait, Kakashi,” Obito interrupts him, bewilderment evident in his tone as he absently glances around his surroundings. “What the hell are you talking about? What _dance?”_

 _“It’s a dance Sukea taught me, we used to do it all the time. Well, actually, I haven’t danced to it in a while so I forgot most of it, but…”_ There’s a short pause. _“Sukea taught it to me again. The music is really pretty, I think you’ll like it.”_

“Sukea?” Obito echoes. “Is Sukea with you? Wait…What the hell is going on?”

 _“He was here earlier but he’s gone now,”_ Kakashi answers distractedly, his words slurring ever so slightly. _“I just want to dance with you. The music is so pretty, so, so pretty. Do you hear it?”_

Obito swallows. He doesn’t hear anything. “I don’t.” _Something isn’t right._ Obito’s heart picks up in pace as he stands up, leaning against a nearby wall as he listens carefully to the other line. “I don’t hear anything.”

_“Oh.”_

“Are you alone?” Obito asks him carefully, his palms beginning to sweat. _What is Kakashi doing?_ The question scares him more than it should. “Is your uncle there?”

 _“Uncle went out a long while ago to run some errands, so it’s just me,”_ Kakashi answers simply. _“Well, actually, Nagato stopped by, too. We toked – well, I did. He kind of just sat there and watched.”_

“Nagato? Wait…You _what?”_ Obito feels his heart drop in his stomach, red flags popping up in his mind as he listens to Kakashi blabber. Kakashi went clean a while ago…his psychiatrist even told him to stay away from other drugs. _What is going on?_ “Kakashi, you didn’t—”

 _“Relax, I know you have something against smoking the Bible, but I didn’t disrespect it or anything,”_ Kakashi says, confirming Obito’s fears, but his words are quick, too quick, syllables merging together in a strange rhythm. _“It didn’t feel right at first, but then I started reading the passages. You know, the Bible is actually kind of interesting. There’s some nice things in there. Comforting things. A lot of horrifying things, but comforting things, too.”_

Obito’s grip on his phone tightens, fear starting to grip his nerves. “Kakashi, you shouldn’t have—”

_“I can still remember what some of the verses said. ‘Get rid of all bitterness, rage and anger, brawling and slander, along with every form of malice. Be kind and compassionate’ – oh, god, Obito, why did we fight? Why are we always fighting?”_

Obito lets out a shaky breath, the heartbreak in Kakashi’s voice tearing at his as well. “Kakashi—”

 _“Nothing good ever comes from fighting…why do we always fight each other?”_ Kakashi’s voice sounds so small, so sad and _small._ _“I remember reading, ‘Do not be quickly provoked in your spirit, for anger resides in the lap of fools…’ Every time we fight, Obito, every time we fight we just hurt ourselves more and more. It’s stupid. When we fight, it’s so stupid. I don’t want to fight anymore, Obito, please, please I don’t want to fight with you anymore—”_

“We’re not fighting anymore, Kakashi, I’m sorry, too,” Obito whispers into the phone, and he wishes he were by Kakashi’s side, worry stirring in his chest the longer this conversation spurs on. He remembers the mention of _Nagato,_ and his mind struggles to remember the name. It sounds familiar, but he can’t remember where he had last heard it. He certainly doesn’t remember Kakashi speaking of such a person recently. _Who is Nagato?_ “Kakashi, are you alone?” Obito tries, unsure if he had heard Kakashi correctly the first time.

 _“No, I’m fine. I’m with Nagato. He’s right here, he’s with me,”_ Kakashi tells him again, a bit sleepily through the phone, and Obito inhales sharply at the confirmation. _“Nagato told me that I have a place in this world, that maybe I won’t do big things like some sort of hero…but he says that I do have a place. Do you think that’s true? Do I really belong here, Obito?”_

“Of course you do, Kakashi,” Obito quickly answers, desperate to convey his feelings. “Of course you have a place. God, I-I don’t know if we have a place in our town or even in the damn _world,_ but I know we have a place with each other. I know we belong with _each other.”_ He gets up again, pacing down the street in search of a bus, a car, any vehicle over the horizon, worry stirring deeply in his chest. _“Who_ is Nagato?”

 _“A friend,”_ Kakashi whispers. There’s another pause, and then a soft sigh. _“A friend. Just a friend. I thought he was just a friend. But I was wrong. He isn’t a friend. Not anymore. He can’t be my friend. He isn’t real.”_

Obito freezes. _“What?”_ He feels his skin crawl, and his shivers aren’t from the wind.

 _“He isn’t real,”_ Kakashi breathes, and Obito’s own breath escapes him. _“He’s like Iruka, all this time, he wasn’t real.”_ Kakashi lets out a laugh, an empty laugh that rings through the phone, and Obito’s eyes waver in fear. _“Can you believe that? Before you, he was my only friend in this town. Before you, he was the only person I could talk to. Before you, and even with you, he was the one I went to for advice. Nagato, my friend, my best friend…he isn’t real.”_ A shaky breath. _“He never was.”_

Obito is too stunned to speak. His heart is breaking in his chest, and the image of Kakashi’s scars flashes before him. He can’t move.

 _“S-Sorry,”_ Kakashi suddenly says. _“I…I’m crying again…I cry too much, I think. You said so, too. I’m always crying…”_

Obito’s eyes fill with regret. “No, Kakashi—”

_“I’m s-sorry…It just hurts so much…I trusted Nagato so much…but every time I talked to him, I was talking to nothing. I don’t know what to do anymore, Obito…I don’t know…what is real anymore…I don’t even know…I don’t even know if you’re real anymore—”_

Obito’s heart nearly stops. “I’m real,” he says desperately into the phone, clinging onto it like a lifeline. “I’m real, Kakashi, I _promise_ you, I’m real.”

 _“They always say that…every voice, they always say that,”_ Kakashi whispers, and Obito calls out his name helplessly. _“I don’t know…maybe…maybe you are real…”_ Kakashi continues, _“But am I really talking to you…or is this another hallucination? I don’t know…maybe you’re still mad at me… you must still be angry with me...you wouldn’t pick up the phone if you were angry with me…maybe I really am just imagining this conversation…I don’t know…”_

“I’m real, Kakashi, believe me, I’m _real._ And I’m not angry with you, I could never be angry with you.” Obito feels like a little boy again, a little boy in the corner of the room, watching with dazed and saddened eyes as his mother shuts the door on him. _Not you, not you, not you, too,_ Obito thinks as his heart swells with fear. _Don’t leave me, too, please, don’t leave me—_

 _“Nagato was real,”_ Kakashi sounds so distant, like he is about to disappear. Obito tries to hold on to him, but he slips further and further away. _“But he’s just a voice now. I can still hear him. I can still hear all of them…You’re just another one of them, another voice in my head…I’m hopeless. I’m so, so hopeless.”_

“Kakashi, you’re scaring me,” Obito whispers, and he can feel himself shaking, his mind running a mile a minute as it tries to keep up. His skin crawls with dread, and he begs whatever spirit there is above to just _stop this._ “What is going on? Why are you saying these things?”

 _“I can hear the music again,”_ Kakashi wistfully says, words slurring almost incomprehensibly. _“It’s so pretty, Obito. If you’re real, I wish you could hear it, too. If you’re not, listen to it with me. It’s so, so pretty. We can dance together, do you know how to dance?”_

“Kakashi, stop it. _Talk to me,”_ Obito begs him anxiously. “I’m so fucking scared—”

“ _There’s no need to be afraid, Obito,”_ Kakashi tells him. _“Not when we’re dancing. That’s what Sukea said. You just take a step here and a step there, and you forget about your fears. You forget about your worries, your anger, your sins. It’s so liberating…oh, Obito. Please, dance with me—”_

Obito can feel tears burning at his lashes. “Kakashi—”

 _“We can reach it together, we can finally reach it together, we can bow and thank everyone, breathe together…All we have to do is take the first step.”_ Kakashi lets out a breath of wonder. _“I used to watch Sukea dance. It was always like he was walking on air. On the clouds. In the sky. We can be like that, too, Obito. I have dreams like that…dreams where I’m up with the clouds, up in the air with one step between me and an infinite sky. A beautiful, beautiful infinite sky. We can be like that, too, Obito, up there with the clouds, up there where we can stand only steps from the infinite. Can you imagine it? I’ve never reached it before, never in my dreams…But this time…this time, Obito, with you, I think I…I think I can finally reach it…”_

“Reach _what?_ Kakashi, you aren’t even making sense anymore—” Obito runs his hand through his hair, unable to calm his breaths as panic begins to strike him. Broken eyes, scarred wrists, piercing screams fill his head. The world seems to expand all around him and he feels so _alone,_ so lost and _alone._

 _“Listen to the music…Just listen to it,”_ Kakashi sighs wondrously. _“It’s just so beautiful…Dance with me, Obito. I can lead us, and then we can be like Sukea…We can walk on air. On clouds. In the sky. Just you and me, like it’s always been…”_

“Kakashi,” Obito begs, voice shaking with every word, “There is no music. There is no dance. There is no sky, we can’t—”

 _“We can, we just have to try,”_ Kakashi’s voice raises ever so slightly. _“I believe in you, Obito. I believe in us! I don’t care if this is real or not, if what we have is real, I’ll believe in us no matter how crazy I sound! I love you, oh, god, Obito, I love you so much…I…I…”_ Obito hears Kakashi sob through the speaker, and his own heart breaks into pieces. _“I’m sorry for bringing you so much pain. I’m so, so sorry. For hurting you, and calling you those terrible things. I’m sorry. But it’ll all be over soon. Thank you for ever loving me, Obito, if you ever did, I mean. I love you, Obito. I…I love you forever…the music is almost over…please dance with me, just this…just this one last time…”_

The sound of something clattering against the floor floods Obito’s ears, snapping him out of his momentary daze, his grip on his phone tightening instinctively. “Kakashi,” he says, heart picking up to an almost impossible speed. His eyes widen when he receives no response. “Kakashi,” he says again, frantically this time, “Kakashi… _Kakashi!”_

He stares down at his phone, a black screen staring silently back at him. Obito curses to himself, turning it back on and grimacing when he sees that he only has 5% left on his battery. The situation suddenly seems to pile on top of him all at once.

His car is missing.

He’s stuck in a town an hour away from home.

Kakashi… _Kakashi._

His hand freezes in place, and Obito stands _horrified,_ realizing that he does not know what to do.

 _What do I do? What do I do?_ The question repeats itself over and over again in his head, the boy staring tearfully up at the empty street void of any life, an overwhelming sense of helplessness consuming him whole. _What do I do?_ He clutches his head, his chest, anything, _anything,_ he needs something, he needs to think of something. _Kakashi, Kakashi, Kakashi,_ but he is only able to think about _Kakashi._

Obito nearly jumps when he feels his phone vibrate, an unknown number flashing across his screen. He picks it up without thinking, but when he opens his mouth to speak, no words come out. _Kakashi…please, Kakashi…_

“…Obito?”

Obito blinks, snapping out of his daze. He recognizes that voice. “G-Gai? H-How—”

 _“K-Kakashi…told me that if he wasn’t home for tutoring, he’d probably be with you, so he gave me your number in case this ever happened and…uh…”_ An awkward cough. _“Is…Is Kakashi with you? He didn’t answer the door…”_

Obito gapes dumbly. _Tutoring?_

_Tuesday._

_It’s Tuesday._

His heart beats with hope.

“Gai, go inside,” Obito commands.

_“Wh-What? But Kakashi didn’t—”_

“Go inside, Gai, _please,_ go inside. He’s home _, trust me,_ he’s home,” Obito tells him, begging him to comply. _Please, please tell me everything is alright._

_“But what if the door is locked—”_

“Try.” _Please, please let him be okay._ “Just try, please.”

The sound of a door clicking is heard, and Obito feels as if his heart is going to beat out of his chest. _“I-It’s so dark in here—”_

“Is Kakashi there?” Obito asks him. _Please, please say yes._

_“I don’t know if I should go…go inside—”_

_“Please,_ Gai,” Obito practically cries. _“Please,_ Gai. _Look for him.”_

There’s silence on the other end for a moment, Obito waiting with bated breath for the tutor to speak once more. Obito spots lights in the distance. He recognizes it as his father’s car, slight relief filling his system, but he has no time to bask in it.

 _“I don’t…see him...he’s not in any of these rooms…he…”_ Gai suddenly lets out a sharp gasp, and Obito’s eyes widen as panic takes his system.

“Gai!” Obito shouts into the phone. “Gai, what happened?”

 _“He’s—”_ The line cuts.

Obito’s throat goes dry. “Gai? _Gai!”_

The car stops in front of him, but he’s too petrified to move.

His phone hits zero, and the call dies with it.

-

Kakashi’s fingers linger in the air, phone forgotten in the corner. He can feel something at his fingertips, something soft, something warm. His breaths begin to thin as his eyes shut, a world of black suddenly pooling into color as his little brother appears before him, filling the space between his fingers, Sukea’s boyish smile of childlike glee like a painting on his lips.

He’s dancing – _they’re_ dancing once more, across the halls of a home filled with empty chairs and vacant picture frames, just brother and brother in a room of crystal mirrors, laughing foolishly as Kakashi stumbles over his toes, Sukea forgetting about poise and posture and letting loose as they stray from the beat of the music.

Sukea soon lets go, a small smile on his face as Kakashi uncertainly takes a step back. His brother vanishes with a final wave, and Kakashi is alone in a room of mirrors, his eyes falling silently onto his own reflection. A hand settles on his shoulder, and he gazes back, breath catching in his throat as he meets Obito’s tender gaze. Kakashi turns, his hands automatically finding their way to Obito’s, their fingers fitting together in a way that only theirs could. Their eyes meet once more, cheeks flushed with a certain shyness as they take their first step. They’re hesitant at first, shaky and unsure, neither experienced with dancing, but slowly the mirrors seem to fade, and it is only them, the two of them, their steps gliding across the floor like second nature. Slowly, Kakashi’s fears disperse, and he loses himself in Obito’s eyes. Their steps continue through the air, on the clouds, in the sky, and Kakashi wants to reach it. He wants to reach infinity with Obito.

 _Together,_ Kakashi thinks as Obito gently lifts his chin.

The music shifts and Obito’s hands abruptly disappear. Kakashi stumbles forward once more, fingers slipping from Obito’s fleeting grasp, twitching as they reach for any purchase, a short panic arising in his chest until he feels arms around his waist once more. The touch is gentle, so light Kakashi almost feels as if he is being swept away by an ocean mist, and as he looks up, he nearly chokes. Iruka gazes silently back at him, and his touch is no longer gentle, but firm, _controlling,_ and even as Kakashi struggles to escape from his grasp, Iruka refuses to let go. His fingers tighten around Kakashi’s, squeezing his knuckles and drawing a sharp gasp from Kakashi’s lips as he feels the pressure begin to twist his fingers unnaturally. Kakashi lets out a pained cry, shaking as he attempts to break free from Iruka’s control, tears brimming the tips of his lashes as he thrashes and thrashes, desperate to get away.

Iruka’s clutch tightens, a choked scream ripping from Kakashi’s throat as he feels his fingers snap. There is pain, pain, pain, _pain._ Kakashi doubles over, unable to properly process his surroundings as he crawls through the darkness, shards of shattered mirrors embedding themselves into his dried palms. He clenches his hands over the broken pieces of glass, gritting his teeth as tears trail down his cheeks.

His head swirls as he shakily lifts his hands, staring blearily down at his mangled fingers. All at once the broken appendages curl together, and he feels Sukea’s neck between his fingers, his nails digging into thin flesh. Then Sukea becomes Hidan, then Hidan, another man, another woman, another boy, another girl, a party of faces, some he knows, some he doesn’t, but his hands wrap tighter and tighter and _tighter_ around their skin.

He can’t stop.

And then he feels his own neck, his own skin, his own quivering breath, throat closing up all around him, heart palpitating, panicked, trapped in his own chest. It hits Kakashi abruptly, every muscle in his body constricting all at once as he tastes the pills, the tablets, all of them, all of them bubbling back up at once. His body jerks, limbs convulsing, heart stuttering to a faint drum.

He can’t stop.

He is no longer in control.

The music ends. The show is over.

Kakashi opens his eyes.

He can’t breathe.

He can’t breathe.

_I can’t—_


	20. Chapter 20

Obito used to think that attachment was a thoughtless thing.

After watching his parents split apart, Obito vowed he would never fall victim to such a careless concept. People who allowed themselves to get attached to others, in Obito’s opinion, are _stupid._ Everyone comes and everyone eventually goes, a harsh lesson that Obito has had to learn over and over again.

He never understood the girls in his class who would openly cry about their most recent break-up, make up running down their cheeks as they’d say brash things like _“I need him”_ or _“I can’t live without him.”_ Obito just didn’t understand them. All things come to an end, so why would they put so much faith in this person? How can you trust someone so deeply? Trust that this person will never break your heart? How can you become so attached to someone that you suddenly feel as if you’ve lost your purpose as soon as they’re gone? 

Perhaps Obito had spent too much time laughing at these girls to realize that he was just as _stupid_ as they were. He had unwittingly fallen into the same trap he’d avoided for _years._ He is sure he had a life before Kakashi, but it feels too distant, too far away. He had gotten so used to having Kakashi around that a life without him left Obito with a constant hollowness in his chest. He only feels _broken_ now. Obito stupidly allowed himself to get attached to Hatake Kakashi, and now he’s suffering from the consequences.

Kakashi’s final words to him through the phone haunt Obito every day. Guilt eats at his chest while regret gnaws at his bones. He should have been there, he should have been there, _I should have been there._

The real problem with attachment, Obito realizes, is the obsession with the past. He wishes he could take back every little moment, every little breath that ignited this end. He would have done anything to avoid that stupid fight, _anything_ to make sure that he was _there,_ there to _stop this._

The _obsession_ drives Obito down a spectrum of insanity. Words became empty, _meaningless,_ and every little thing, from the classrooms at school to the streetlights down the roads somehow manages to remind Obito of his best friend, his boyfriend, his Kakashi, his _everything._ Everything, _everywhere,_ Kakashi is _everywhere._ Obito smells him through the smoke in the breeze, sees him through the throng of a crowd, hears his laughter through the patter of rain. His heart breaks when his fingers close over thin air. 

The past is done, and now their future is even more uncertain than before.

But in the present, Obito only knows one thing.

He misses Kakashi. He misses him _so much._

-

Obito doesn’t have a particular opinion on hospitals. He’s only been to the clinic once or twice before, the last time due to a broken arm from a messy fight. While Obito doesn’t necessarily have some sort of fear or distaste for hospitals, he can admit to a slight discomfort every time he steps through those sliding doors.

The feeling becomes a little worse every day. It corresponds to the pace of the hour. When doctors come to discuss Kakashi’s condition with his nurses, Obito’s discomfort grows when their voices lower. There’s an air of uncertainty with every visit, doctors careful not to drop any specific dates, nurses careful not to sound _too_ hopeful as Kakashi’s body responds to their tests. 

Kakashi seems to get paler every day. Most of his scars have faded to white, his cheekbones far more prominent now as his skin gradually sinks, his breath only thin whispers, barely shifting dust. He’s smaller now, _so much smaller,_ the little parts of him that Obito knew by heart almost unrecognizable. Even as the sun sets, bathing the room in an orange glow, Kakashi still appears so gray, the boy who once brought so much color into Obito’s life rusting away with every quiet hour.

Sometimes, Obito hears Kakashi’s soft voice through the phone again, the shakiness in his tone, the quiet conflict between pain and relief. It’s haunting, like a living nightmare. The guilt replays its song over and over again – _he never should have left Kakashi alone,_ never should have hurt him like he did. Obito can only imagine the horrors Kakashi saw or heard all alone in that apartment…alone… _alone. It’s my fault…it’s all my fucking fault—_

Obito freezes when the door opens, thoughts shattering into pieces as he’s sucked back into reality. He hears the steady beat of Kakashi’s monitor, feels the softness of Kakashi’s fingers in his hand and blinks through the static light of the small hospital room. When he looks up, Genma stands in the doorway, a small bouquet of flowers under one arm.

Genma lets out a low whistle, stepping into the room and allowing the door to shut gently behind him. “Is it weird if I say I kind of miss seeing this kid in the school halls?” Genma smiles a little, his shoes squeaking against the floor as he approaches Kakashi’s bed, nodding towards Obito in greeting. “I even miss the weird little things he used to mumble to himself every now and then.”

Obito doesn’t say anything, only watching as Genma turns to set the flowers down on the empty drawer by the bed. “What are you doing here?” Obito finally asks as Genma moves to settle on the couch by the window, the younger student pulling a rolled up poster out of his bag.

“What does it look like I’m doing?” Genma lightly asks, unrolling the poster and smoothing is over his legs. “I’m visiting my favorite little freak.”

Obito only rolls his eyes, rubbing his thumb over Kakashi’s knuckles before releasing his hand and sitting back in his own seat. “What are the flowers and poster for?” he asks, a mix of curiosity and suspicion in his tone.

“The poster is filled with _‘Get well soon’_ messages from our classmates,” Genma answers with a simple shrug. “The flowers are from me, though,” he adds with a wink. “Want me to read a few?” Genma doesn’t wait for an answer, clearing his throat melodramatically as he points to a single message. _“Feel better soon Kakashi, we all miss you!”_ Genma lets out a low chuckle, rerolling the poster and tossing it to the side. “Everyone signed it. Well, Hidan didn’t, but fuck that asshole.”

Obito raises an eyebrow. “Our _classmates?”_

“What?” Genma says, slight amusement in his tone. “You don’t like it?”

“As if the people who signed that actually give a shit about Kakashi,” Obito utters, turning his gaze away with a roll of his eyes. “Most of them still think he burned down his old school.”

Genma only shrugs, waving his hand in a dismissive manner. “It’s the thought that counts.”

Obito lets out a scoff. “If only it really did.” 

Genma stares at Obito for a moment before smiling, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “You’ve come to visit him every day, right?”

“Since his admission, yeah,” Obito answers as he reaches over to brush Kakashi’s hair back. “It’s the only thing I can do right nowadays.”

Genma quirks an eyebrow up. “What about your homework?” he asks. “You can do _that,_ you know.”

Obito lets out a slight scoff of amusement. “I don’t know what that is.”

“You can’t graduate if you fail all your classes,” Genma reminds him, arms crossed over his chest, watching as Obito takes Kakashi’s hand in his again. “You know Kakashi wouldn’t want that.”

“It’s just homework. It’s not that serious,” Obito murmurs, a soft sigh escaping his lips as he searches for signs of warmth in Kakashi’s skin.

“Maybe not now, but all that missing work will come back to bite you in the ass,” Genma reprimands him, but Obito doesn’t say anything. Genma stares at Obito for a moment before shaking his head. “I don’t think you should spend all your time in this hospital,” he says sincerely. “I know he’s your boyfriend, but I don’t think this is healthy for you—”

“It’s all I can do,” Obito says again, his grip on Kakashi’s hand tightening ever so slightly.

“You keep saying that, but it’s not true.”

“I wasn’t there for him then, so I’ll be there for him now,” Obito states, and there’s a certain strain in his voice, his words seeming to strike a harder chord in him than he realized.

Genma seems stunned, too, and he’s quiet for a moment, the slow beeps of the monitor filling the silence between them. Obito’s tongue begins to taste bittersweet.

“It wasn’t your fault, you know,” Genma suddenly says, and Obito swallows, his gaze drifting to Kakashi’s closed eyes. “It’s easier to blame someone when things feel out of your control, but trust me, you’re not the one to blame here. Neither is he.”

Obito shakes his head, the guilt within him pressuring his shoulders. “You weren’t there, Genma. If you heard the things I said to him…the way I just _left_ him like that… _alone—”_

“Like you would have known that this would happen,” Genma says with a scoff. “Kakashi wasn’t suicidal, even with his disorder. It was an accident, and you know it.”

Obito looks up, fixing Genma with a glare. “This isn’t some little _accident,”_ Obito utters, sounding almost as if offended by the term. “Kakashi nearly killed himself—”

“But he _didn’t,”_ Genma states, his stare unwavering against Obito’s. “There’s no use in playing a pity party for yourself. What’s done is done. He overdosed, but he lived. He’s _okay_ now, and that’s all that matters.”

Obito scoffs, releasing Kakashi’s hand once more. “I don’t know if this is your fucked up way of trying to make me feel better, but it’s not working.”

“I’m just tired of you dragging your feet around everywhere like you committed the world’s greatest crime,” Genma tells him with a shrug. “Look, when Kakashi wakes up, he’s not going to want to hear apologies from you. Empty apologies won’t help him recover, and neither will blaming yourself about whatever went wrong in the past. Kakashi doesn’t think it’s your fault. Stop beating yourself up over it.”

“You can’t tell me that this would have happened _anyways_ if I _didn’t_ have that stupid fight with him,” Obito says in an exasperated tone. “Or that he would have done this if I was there with him… _fuck,_ Genma, I never should have left him alone—”

“What would have happened if you didn’t have that fight _doesn’t matter._ Torturing yourself with _what could have been_ isn’t going to get you anywhere,” Genma retorts with a roll of his eyes. “It sucks seeing Kakashi like this, I get it. But it also sucks seeing _you_ like this, too. I don’t know what’s worse, the fact that Kakashi accidentally overdosed, or that you somehow think that him doing so is _your_ fault.”

Obito’s fingers clench together, frustration filling his system as Genma’s words take their place. He knows Genma is right, he knows that he can’t keep blaming himself for something out of his control. But _what else could he do?_ Obito spent that day trying to run away from his life, from _Kakashi,_ and all it gave him was a missing car and a broken heart. He felt stupid, so _incredibly_ stupid for even _thinking_ he could run away.

But that’s all he ever does, he supposes. All he ever does is run away. He doesn’t have the power to do anything else but _run away._

“I just wish I wasn’t so fucking _powerless,”_ Obito says, voice barely above a whisper as he struggle to maintain his resolve, eyes burning with frustration. “Every _fucking_ time…with my parents, with Izumi, with _Kakashi._ I couldn’t stop _any_ of it. I don’t _care_ if you say that things were out of my control because they always _are!_ I blame myself because I can’t do anything else! All I want is to fucking _live_ for once, live without having to hold my damn breath waiting for something new to screw me over. I don’t know what happened with Kakashi, I can’t even _begin_ to imagine what went through his head when he overdosed, but maybe if I’d been there, maybe if I was there with him, I could have stopped him. And that thought alone at least helps me feel like I have some control over what happens in my shit show of a life.”

“You can’t think like that, Obito,” Genma rebukes, and Obito looks away, a bitter look in his eyes. “You may not be able to control the things that happen to you but you can control what you do afterwards. You’re getting too caught up in the past, of the things you _couldn’t_ control when you should be keeping your damn head up and thinking of ways to _help_ Kakashi recover instead.” Obito swallows, his gaze on the wall wavering with Genma’s words. “Kakashi’s going to feel like _shit_ when he wakes up, but he’ll feel even _worse_ if he finds out that you somehow think that you should have been there, or that it’s your fault, or that you’re weak and powerless or whatever the hell else you think you fucking are.” Genma holds a hand up when Obito opens his mouth to speak. “I don’t want to argue this any more than we already have, so I’m just going to end it here. The past is in the past. You fought, you made mistakes, _Kakashi_ made mistakes, and now we’re here. It all happened, and _life moves on._ So maybe instead of playing Mr. Hypothetical, you can learn from your damn mistakes and make sure that nothing like this _ever_ happens again.”

Obito stares at Genma for a moment, dumbfounded as a part of him still wants to argue, to push for his own self-inflicted punishment, but he knows that it’s all just a brittle way to cope.

He’s never been good with dealing with his own emotions. Obito is well aware of his fire-like temper and inability to think clearly when he’s riled up. He had been so caught up in his own feelings that he didn’t even bother to think about how Kakashi would feel when he eventually wakes up. He knows that of all people, Kakashi wouldn’t blame Obito, Kakashi would blame _himself._ The thought alone tears at Obito’s heart.

Obito glances back at Kakashi, expression softening as he reaches out to gently brush his boyfriend’s hair back, revealing the tranquility in his features despite his current state, for once undisturbed, unbothered by his tumultuous thoughts. A part of him breaks a little more when he realizes that from now on, Kakashi would have to face thoughts even darker the very moment he wakes up.

Perhaps Obito could do more for Kakashi.

“What kind of flowers are those?” Obito suddenly asks without looking up, catching Genma off guard.

Genma gives him a strange look for a moment before glancing back at the flowers. “Oh…uh…I don’t know,” he says, uncharacteristically quiet.

“You don’t know?” Obito repeats, an eyebrow raised in slight amusement. “You bought them.”

“Yeah, but I wasn’t the florist who put them together,” Genma retorts before getting up and thumbing through the flower petals. He glances over at Obito briefly before turning to the bouquet once more. “…The bigger purple ones are chrysanthemums, I think. My dad used to keep a garden of them.”

“Cute,” Obito says with a snort. “But honestly, I don’t even think Kakashi likes flowers.”

“Shit. Really?” Genma lets out a groan. “What a fucking waste of money—”

“It’s the thought that counts,” Obito mockingly says with a small laugh. “I don’t think he’ll mind, he’s better than me at appreciating little gestures like that.” He then pauses. “Wait, aren’t flowers supposed to mean something? What do those mean? _Chrys-whatevers.”_

 _“Chrysanthemums,”_ Genma corrects him with a mild glare. “And I don’t know, _get well soon,_ probably. My dad used to be into things like that, but…sometimes chrysanthemums mean recovery, rebirth, or living a good life…lasting friendships, relationships, whatnot.” He scratches his head in a somewhat embarrassed manner. “It’s mostly a cheer-up type of flower. My mom used to be quite depressed, so my dad planted these little shits for her. She loved them and I thought their meaning was kind of okay, so…uh…” he trails off when he sees the smirk Obito is giving him. “What?”

“Liar.”

Genma blinks. “What? No, he really did—”

“No, not that,” Obito says with a roll of his eyes. “The flowers. You picked them yourself, didn’t you?”

Genma’s lips part in surprise, cheeks tinting a light pink. “…Does it matter?”

“Uh, yeah?” Obito snorts as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “That’s kind of gay, dude.”

“…I take it all back. It really is your fault that Kakashi is like this.” Genma immediately gets up, heading for the door. “I’m leaving.”

Obito only laughs, and for the first time since he’s started visiting Kakashi at the hospital, his shoulders feel light.

-

Sometimes, while Obito is in school, he’ll look to his side and expect to see Kakashi there.

It’s lonely, obviously, and it reminds Obito of the days when Kakashi would stay home from school, sometimes for days, sometimes for _weeks._ The only difference is that this time, he receives stares of sympathy and little utters of condolences from classmates Obito barely ever acknowledges. He’s still bitter about it, because he knows the people apologizing for his grief are the same ones who laughed behind Kakashi’s back. He never says anything back, though. Obito would rather not start something at school again, silent as he trails from class to class.

He’s so _lonely._

His parents, for once, are quiet about the situation. They allow Obito to visit the hospital as he pleases, and they’re careful not to ask too many questions about Kakashi’s progress or how Obito feels about it all. And Obito would prefer it stay that way, at least for a little longer. He’s tired of his parents trying to play therapist for him, and it’s easier to come home when he doesn’t have to explain himself every damn time.

Obito’s mother had knocked on his door one late night, just as Obito was about to go to bed to tell him that their wedding would be postponed until further notice. Although unspoken, Obito knows that she really means that they will _not_ be moving before he graduates as they initially planned. It looks as if he’ll stay in this town, stay with _Kakashi_ for just a little longer. Surprise was one way to describe the way Obito had felt when he heard the news. The other feeling he cannot name.

Obito isn’t very used to the quietness of life. Things aren’t better, but they aren’t _worse_ either. His days consist of sitting through school and then sitting in the hospital. It’s his daily routine that happens over and over again, hours going by with dazed eyes and slumped shoulders. Nothing ever happens, and while he should be relieved that he doesn’t have anything to worry about at the moment, he can’t help but feel a bit aggravated. _Nothing ever happens._

Kakashi isn’t showing any signs of waking up any time soon.

Obito gets to stay in this town a little longer, he gets to stay with _Kakashi_ a little longer, but he wonders how much longer he’ll have to wait before he gets to hear Kakashi’s quiet voice again.

Sometimes Obito goes to see Kakashi’s uncle, just to check on how the man is doing. On those days, they go to visit Kakashi together. Normally, Kakashi’s uncle goes to visit the boy in the mornings, Obito taking the afternoon. During their visits together, they talk about what the doctors say, and then they share little stories with one another, killing time as they recall Kakashi’s memory, his uncle in particular having cute stories from Kakashi’s childhood.

They try their best to fill the otherwise somber atmosphere in the hospital room with lighthearted stories and jokes, but there’s a strain in their voices that never quite leaves even as they laugh. Kakashi’s uncle is a very careful man in the way he speaks. He is normally careful about a lot of things, but Obito had seen a few documents lying around in the shop one day when he came to visit. He has a feeling that Kakashi’s uncle purposely left them there in the open, and that he knows that Obito saw them, too. They continue to laugh as they talk about a baby Kakashi, but the unspoken truth weighs heavily on both of their shoulders.

Obito knows that the empty spot beside him in school will never be filled.

Kakashi will not be returning to graduate at the end of the year.

-

Visiting hours on Sundays are shorter, so Obito leaves early in the morning to get to the hospital as soon as possible. He downs a cup of coffee on the bus ride there, holding the drink close in an effort to warm his hands. The weather continues to get colder and colder, winter carving its name in the bare branches of the trees, the frost that coats every window.

The nurses on the floor greet Obito as he passes by, the teen sparing polite smiles back as he heads for Kakashi’s room. A small part of him wonders how much longer he’ll be coming to visit, wonders when the day will come when Kakashi greets him instead.

When Obito opens the door to Kakashi’s room, he’s surprised to find that he isn’t the only one who came to visit that Sunday morning.

“Well, if it isn’t the hero himself,” Obito says in greeting, his tone light as he enters the room. Gai glances up from his place by Kakashi’s side, cheeks reddening almost immediately at the rather dramatic title.

“I’m not…” Gai lets out a tired sigh before suddenly blinking, almost as if realizing something. He immediately scrambles up from his seat by Kakashi’s bed. “S-Sorry,” he apologizes, gesturing towards the chair. “I can…I can go—”

“Don’t,” Obito says with a slight laugh. “You’re fine.” Obito then heads for the couch by the window, taking it without another word. Gai looks as if he wants to protest, but upon seeing Obito’s disinterest in such an argument, he slowly sits back down again. “Haven’t seen you back here since he was first admitted,” Obito begins conversationally, tilting his head to the side as he stares at Gai. “Something happen?”

“N-Not exactly…” Gai answers, a bit embarrassed as he looks back at Obito. “I’ve been a bit busy with tutoring since midterms are coming up, so I haven’t found the time until now to come back…” Gai lets out a soft sigh, playing with his thumbs. “And I was a little nervous…I…I wasn’t sure if I was welcomed here or not.”

Obito raises an eyebrow. “Why wouldn’t you be?”

“…I-I don’t know,” Gai admits, cheeks glowing pink, and he seems confused himself for a second. “I’m not exactly…close to him. I’m just his tutor…”

Obito shrugs, finding Gai’s modesty a bit unnecessary. “Well, you saved him, so…you’re more welcomed here than me.”

Gai’s eyes widen as he immediately shakes his head. “D-Don’t say that…you mean way more to Kakashi than I ever could,” Gai says, gaze falling to the ground momentarily before settling on Obito once more. “And…and I didn’t save him. I only did what the dispatcher told me to do over the phone while I waited for the EMTs to arrive.”

“Yeah,” Obito says. “And you saved him.”

Gai flusters at the boldness of Obito’s words. “No, it wasn’t—”

“The paramedics said it themselves, didn’t they? The fact that you’d been there at that exact time to do what the dispatcher told you to do, you managed to secure Kakashi’s life,” Obito recites, recalling that day.

When Obito finally arrived at the scene, the ambulance was preparing to leave with Kakashi’s body. He didn’t even get to see Kakashi, and upon hearing the sirens, seeing the crowd, watching the flashing lights dance across the street, Obito was taken back to the day his father got shot, panic instantly freezing his blood in ice. All he could think about was the blood on the ground, the blood on the sidewalk of his old home, then of Kakashi’s cuts, the phone call, his plea for a final dance. Obito fell into hysterics, unable to control himself as he tore through the crowds, begging to see Kakashi, pushing past officers in an attempt to find Kakashi despite a deeper part of him knowing that Kakashi was gone.

Gai had been there, surprisingly calm despite the tears streaming down his cheeks. It had taken his hand on Obito’s shoulder to bring Obito back to the surface, and it was _Gai_ who broke the news. Obito had fallen onto the curb, head in his hands as tears broke free from his lashes, Gai’s quiet presence beside him Obito’s only comfort as his world collapsed around him. A paramedic had stopped by to thank Gai, but Obito had been too hysterical to really register what was going on. Since then, Obito has been able to reflect more on that day, and awkward little Gai fell under a new light.

“You’re a little hero,” Obito says, distractedly almost, a distant look in his eyes.

Gai reddens again, waving his hands in denial. “But the EMTs were the ones who—”

“Gai, you’re missing the point here,” Obito cuts him off a bit tiredly. “Yeah, they did their job and stabilized him. But _you_ managed to stay _calm enough_ to actually prolong Kakashi’s life _long enough_ to make sure that the paramedics actually could do their job when they finally arrived.” Obito gives Gai a smile, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “You were there when I couldn’t be. And even if I was there, I sure as hell wouldn’t have been able to help at all.” Obito clicks his tongue, feeling a bit ashamed of how easily he had broken down that day. “You saved him.”

Gai is quiet for a moment, eyes wavering with what almost looked like hope. “Do you really think so?” he asks timidly, fidgeting his fingers, and Obito only nods his head. Gai lets out a shaky breath, an uncertain smile on his lips. “I-I was so scared…it felt like what happened with my grandfather all over again. E-Everything from that day came rushing back and I…I don’t even know what I did, if I’m being completely honest. I read up on basic CPR and things like that in the past, but doing it _for real_ …oh _god._ I just followed what the dispatcher told me to do, and then the EMTs arrived and everything happened so fast and…it’s all such a blur…I didn’t really think I did anything useful because I was still so _scared._ I-I thought I was too late, or that I did something wrong, o-or—”

“I don’t know how you _wouldn’t_ be scared in that situation,” Obito says honestly, feeling his own body begin to shiver at the simple thought of flashing red and blue lights. He hadn’t even _seen_ Kakashi that day, but if that scene alone was enough to bring Obito to his knees, he couldn’t imagine how he’d react if _he_ had been to one to find Kakashi in the bathroom, if _he_ had been the one to see Kakashi in that state. “What matters is that you actually _did_ something even though you were scared. I don’t think you give yourself enough credit, dude,” Obito utters, crossing his arms over his chest as he settles back against his seat, a small, sincere smile on his lips. “I don’t think that dream of becoming a paramedic is so far off anymore.”

Gai looks at him in surprise, cheeks coloring once more at a compliment that means more to him than Obito realizes. “Ah…I…I think it’s a little too early to make a call like that…but thanks.” The smile Gai wears is warm.

Obito only shakes his head, a reflective look in his eyes as he recalls the way Gai had kept him company as they travelled to the hospital. “I…don’t think I ever properly thanked you for what you did,” he says suddenly, a bit awkwardly as he catches Gai’s gaze. Gai looks as if he is going to protest again, but Obito continues anyways, hints of regret lacing his tone, “That day…I wasn’t even in town. I ran away thinking I could forget about Kakashi after a stupid fight we had, but of course things like that aren’t ever simple. My car went missing, so I couldn’t even come back home when I wanted to. I already felt like such a fucking _idiot_ for leaving in the first place, and if my stolen car wasn’t enough, _Kakashi_ called…and _fuck.”_ Obito takes a deep breath. “I couldn’t even move. I didn’t even know what to do, and then you called, and you found him and…my fucking phone died,” he explains with a humorless smile. “Kakashi was home alone. If you hadn’t come that day… _I don’t think Kakashi would have made it at all._ Nobody would have been home to find him, and I sure as hell was too _stupid_ and _paralyzed_ to call the fucking cops myself before my phone died.”

Gai’s gaze falls to the ground. “I was just…coming in to tutor.”

Obito hums. “But you came at the perfect time, and you did what you needed to do.” He lets out a soft sigh. “And I thank every god out there that you did. I don’t care what you think about yourself or what you did, Gai, but thank you. I don’t…I don’t know what I would have done if Kakashi didn’t make it.” His eyes settle on Kakashi’s small form in bed, wrapped under white sheets, chest rising and falling to a steady rhythm. It fills Obito with both relief and regret. He wishes he could have been stronger. He wishes he could have done more.

“I hope he’ll be okay,” Gai says quietly, his words seeming to hold the weight of the world.

Obito’s smile is sad, knowing that Kakashi’s future is more uncertain now than it ever was before. “I hope so, too.”

Just then, the door opens, a nurse walking in with a polite smile. Obito and Gai let out their own hums in greeting, merely watching as the woman works around Kakashi’s body, shifting him a bit as she checks on him. The silence is a bit awkward, the two teens unable to say anything as the nurse shuffles around the room. Obito takes this moment to stretch, rolling his neck around his shoulders as the nurse finishes up her round, bowing to the two boys in her departure.

She opens the door, a soft _oh_ leaving her lips. “More visitors?” she says with a light-hearted laugh. Obito straightens immediately in surprise, briefly making eye contact with Gai, whose own expression looks just as surprised. The nurse introduces herself to the new guests, speaking a bit quietly as she explains Kakashi’s condition.

“Thank you,” Obito hears someone say, and he freezes, eyes widening at the familiar voice.

_Sukea._

“It’s no problem. Just call if you need anything!” the nurse cheerfully says with another bow, opening the door fully and allowing the new visitors inside. She smiles kindly to everyone before taking her leave, Obito’s blood going cold at the familiar sound of Sukea’s crutches. But it’s not _Sukea_ he’s afraid of.

Footsteps settle, a soft gasp of surprise in the air, Sukea breathless as he says Obito’s name. But it isn’t until the door finally shuts does Obito finally look up, his worst fears being realized.

Sukea smiles kindly at him, but there are hints of worry in his eyes.

His parents stand right behind him.

“…Sukea,” Obito greets uncertainly, shifting uncomfortably in his seat as Kakashi’s parents finally seem to notice his presence. Memories of his first encounter with them flood his mind, anxiety taking his bones as a shaky breath escapes his lips.

Kakashi’s mother’s eyes seem to flicker in recognition. “You…You were that _boy,”_ she says, the word laced with distaste, and Obito’s heart throbs in his chest, arteries pumping with dread. “What are you doing here? If you think I’ll let you touch my son again—”

“I’m visiting _Kakashi,_ just like everyone else in this room,” Obito grits, hands clenching into fists as he reminds himself to remain civil, but the very sound of that woman’s voice stirs a fire in his chest. “And I think me touching your son is the least of your concerns.” Obito’s eyes catch hers, almost as if daring her to say more.

“Mom,” Sukea says, a bit nervously as he turns to her with pleading eyes, _“please._ Now isn’t the time to do this—”

His mother only raises her hand, Sukea automatically pressing his lips together, silenced by the simple gesture alone. Sukea’s eyes are apologetic, but Obito is too busy gauging the look of disgust on his mother’s face to notice. “Who my son associates with is a great concern of mine,” she stiffly states, and Obito has to suppress the urge to scoff. “His choice of company has always been questionable. I always knew he’d run into trouble like _this_ with the people he surrounds himself with.”

Obito’s eyes widen ever so slightly with her words, and he immediately stands up, fists clenched tightly by his sides. “Are you really blaming _him?”_ Obito questions her incredulously. “Kakashi nearly killed himself and you’re blaming _him_ for it?”

Kakashi’s mother turns her chin up, eyeing Obito with distaste. “I’m not blaming _him,_ I’m blaming people like _you._ Delinquents like _you_ are nothing but bad influences.” She lets out a scoff of disdain. “And I can’t say I’m surprised with what happened when Kakashi constantly puts himself in danger by surrounding himself with people like _you._ That boy really doesn’t know how to take care of himself—”

“He’s _seventeen years old,_ and he’s taken better care of _himself_ than you ever fucking did,” Obito snaps, unable to believe any of the words this woman says. “And I’ve _never_ put Kakashi in danger. I’ve tried my hardest to keep him safe—”

“Then why is he here?” Kakashi’s mother sharply says, and Obito bites his tongue. “Who are _you_ to talk to us about Kakashi like this?”

“His fucking _boyfriend,_ that’s who I am,” Obito growls, his blood beginning to boil as Kakashi’s words from their fight return to him, hearing the pain in his boyfriend’s voice as he spoke about his parents, about how all he ever wanted was their _love._ “I should be asking you who _you_ are for coming in like this, because you sure as hell are _not_ Kakashi’s mother.”

“Obito—” Sukea shakily tries to interfere, but Obito only ignores him, unable to think of anything else but Kakashi’s tears, his fingers clutching desperately onto Obito’s as he dreams of a world that treats him with warmth.

 _“Boyfriend,”_ Kakashi’s father speaks up before his mother can this time, the abhorrence clear in his tone as his eyes narrow at Obito. “Of course. We should have taken Kakashi back home when we had the chance. That way he wouldn’t get such _disgusting_ ideas from people like _you.”_

 _“People like you,”_ Obito repeats with a scoff. “Kakashi was already gay before he met me and he would have _stayed_ gay if you had taken him back. What fucking year is it again?”

“Kakashi always has been a little naïve,” his father gripes, a certain strain to his otherwise monotonous tone, “and with _people like you_ forcing your strange ideas onto him, it’s no wonder he thinks he’s like _that.”_

“He doesn’t _think_ he’s _like that,_ he _is that!”_ Obito asserts. “Why are you so afraid to say the word? And I didn’t force Kakashi into _anything._ We’re together because he wants to be with me whether you like it or not.”

“We did _not_ raise Kakashi that way—”

“Yeah! Because you _didn’t_ fucking raise him at all!” Obito practically shouts, losing his grip on his self-control as nights spent holding Kakashi through his nightmares fill his head. “You two have _no_ idea who Kakashi is or how much _pain_ he’s been through thanks to you! He’s spent his entire life feeling like he was less than human because of you assholes but even _despite_ that, all he’s ever wanted was your damn _love._ And now he’s barely breathing and hooked up to a fucking _machine,_ and you two _still_ don’t give a damn about him!”

“The _nerve_ of you,” Kakashi’s mother breathes out, her shoulders quaking with her anger. _“Get out,”_ she spits. “Get _out_ of here!”

“As if you have any right to kick me out,” Obito says with a laugh of disbelief. “I’m the only person besides his uncle to come in every fucking day to see him. It’s almost been a _month,_ and you two, his so-called _parents,_ only showed up _now?”_

“We didn’t have the time to come until now—”

“You could have _made_ time, for fuck’s sake!” Obito tears his fingers through his hair in frustration. “And I bet if it weren’t for Sukea, you probably wouldn’t have come at _all!”_

Sukea lets out a shaky breath at the mention, the boy looking close to tears. Obito waits for Kakashi’s parents to argue, to say something, _anything,_ but they _don’t._

Obito’s eyes widen, his heart stuttering in his chest. The silence feels like a smack to the face.

_They wouldn’t have come._

_They really wouldn’t have come._

_“Did you ever care?”_ Obito whispers, gazing dazedly over at Kakashi’s body, at his closed eyes, his pale skin. “Did you ever care about him at _all?”_ The monitor beeps with Kakashi’s steady heartbeat, the piercing sound seeming to increase in volume as Obito’s voice gradually begins to rise as well. “When he broke down in the street that day, did you even care? When he started cutting himself, did you even care? Do you know how _afraid_ he is of you two? How terrified he is of finding help because of you two? He’s been treated like absolute _shit_ his entire life, _but you guys don’t care.”_ Obito shakes his head. “You guys don’t care, because he isn’t _perfect._ Because he isn’t this wonderful little _star._ I can’t _believe_ Kakashi’s ever wasted his time trying to please fuckers like you. Did you even care when you heard he overdosed? Do you even care about him _now?”_

“We’ve done everything we could for Kakashi,” Kakashi’s mother states, and Obito only lets out a scoff of disbelief. “We’ve given him a house, clothes, a family, a good education. We pay for all his medications, we pay his psychiatrist, and we’re even paying for his _stay_ here in this hospital. We let him stay with his uncle like he asked when we _could_ have sent him to an asylum. We changed his antipsychotic prescription when he asked, and we continued to let him do what he wanted. We’ve done everything we possibly could as Kakashi’s parents, yet he _still_ ended up in this hospital. He _still_ couldn’t take care of himself. What else could we have possibly done?”

Obito feels the last of his self-control snap, what feels like his entire heart tearing apart as he hears Kakashi’s last words repeat themselves over and over again in his mind.

_Thank you for ever loving me, Obito._

“What else could you have done? What _else?_ All Kakashi’s ever wanted in his fucking life was to be _loved!”_ Obito cries out, Kakashi’s parents startled by his words. “Be loved by _you two,_ his fucking parents of all people! But you guys don’t care! You two don’t give a shit about him! He’s spent _years_ trying to earn your love, but as soon as that incident with Sukea happened, he _ran_ because he thought it was _over._ He thinks the two of you _hate_ him for what he did – fuck – he thought _Sukea_ hated him, but Sukea _doesn’t!_ And he’s the one who can’t fucking _walk,_ not you two! You two act like all Kakashi’s ever done is hold a knife to your damn throats, when really he’s the one afraid of _you!_ He _hates_ himself because he thinks his only parents in the fucking world hate _him,_ but of _course_ you two don’t give a shit about that. You two don’t give a _shit_ about his feelings! You never fucking did!” Obito hears Kakashi’s words again, the gratitude, the tenderness beneath all of the pain. “I’ve given him more love than the two of you ever could’ve _combined,_ but it still wasn’t enough.” He lets out a shaky breath. _“It still isn’t enough.”_

There’s silence for a moment, Obito fighting the tears threatening to fall from his eyes as he glares at the two people who have made Kakashi’s life a living hell. He wishes he could do more, he wishes he could take Kakashi away, far, _far_ away, but he can’t. Obito knows he can’t.

“How…how _dare_ you?” Kakashi’s mother breathes, her own voice cracking as she speaks. “How dare you accuse us of not loving our son? I’ve spent so much on him, so much time trying to make him _better,_ and you have the audacity to tell me that I _don’t love him?”_

“How fucking _vain,_ you think trying to make him better somehow proves that you _love him?”_ Obito lets out a humorless laugh. “You _don’t_ love him because he isn’t perfect, you _don’t_ love him because he’s gay, you _don’t_ love him because of his schizophrenia, and your idea of _better_ is locking him up in an asylum hours away.”

“I won’t stand here and listen to this—”

“Then _leave.”_

“I’m his mother, you have no right to speak to me like this and I have _every_ right to be here, but you—”

“Have been there for Kakashi every fucking day, given him everything I possibly could _every fucking day.”_

“You’re an absolute _fool_ if you think Kakashi needs you more than he needs his own _parents—”_

“You can call yourself his parents all you fucking want, but that’s not what you are, you’re—”

 _“Stop it!_ Just _stop it!”_ Gai suddenly screams, and Obito jumps, startled by the tutor’s strained voice. He glances over in alarm, nearly forgetting where he is, forgetting that there had been others in the room, too. Gai’s face is red, tears of frustration brimming his eyes as he glares at Obito, then at Kakashi’s parents. Obito briefly catches sight of Sukea, the boy collapsed against another seat by the wall, head in his hands as he cries freely in the corner. “We all came here to visit Kakashi, not to yell at each other about who cares about him more! It’s fucking _disgusting_ to listen to, and even more disgusting that you’re fighting _in front of him!”_ Gai seethes, anger and incredulity in his eyes. “I know I don’t know Kakashi that well, but I know for sure that he doesn’t want to hear all this _shouting_ and _fighting!”_

Obito falls silent at the words, gaze trailing over to Kakashi once more. He bites his tongue, a sense of remorse settling in the slump of his shoulders for being unable to control his temper again, but he doesn’t regret his words. Not a single one of them.

“And who are _you?”_ Kakashi’s mother snaps, and she sounds so frustrated, so _exasperated_ by the situation that Obito can only roll his eyes.

Gai’s gaze is sharp as he turns to glare at her. “I’m his tutor,” he spits. “And I saved your son’s life.”

Kakashi’s mother’s lips part in surprise, and her gaze falls in what can only be described as defeat. Silence settles over like cold water, filled only with the sounds of the monitor in the room and Sukea’s stifled tears. Obito feels the strain in his own eyes, and he feels so incredibly _tired._

He lets out a low exhale. “When Kakashi wakes up, I’ll apologize to him for letting this get so out of hand,” Obito utters sincerely, moving towards the door. He barely spares Kakashi’s parents a glance. “I hope you two will, too.” Obito leaves without another word, hand grasped over his chest as he thinks of a boy who deserves more than this world of wasted tears and imprisoning illusions.

-

“Are you going to visit him again?”

Obito pauses in the middle of putting his jacket on to look up, his eyes meeting another pair and his gaze softening almost immediately in response. “No, not today,” he answers, watching as Izumi carefully makes her way towards him from across the hallway. Her hair is pulled into a loose ponytail, a large coat hugging her close and a pair of boots gripped firmly in her hands. He raises an eyebrow at her appearance, surprised to find her in clothes other than the baggy sweater and pajama pants she usually wears around the apartment. She looks _clean, refreshed,_ almost, and judging by the soft scent of strawberries, Izumi must have showered not too long ago. Obito had a feeling he knew what was going on, but he asks anyways, “Why?”

Izumi’s eyes seem to waver in disappointment for just a moment, and she slowly hides her boots behind her back. “N-Nothing…” she quietly stutters with a shake of her head. Izumi gnaws on her bottom lip, batting her lashes at the ground as she shifts her weight from one foot to the other. Obito can tell that she wants to say more, so he sets his jacket down and leans back against the door, giving her his full attention.

“Did you want to visit him?” Obito offers when he sees that she doesn’t know what to say, watching as Izumi’s eyes light up in surprise.

“I did – uhm…” Izumi averts her gaze once more. “It’s okay,” she says instead, forcing a small smile on her lips. “Where are you going, then?”

Obito swallows, his own eyes falling to the floor for a moment as he considers the question. He’d come to visit Kakashi nearly every day since his boyfriend was admitted into the hospital, but this would be the first day he did not come in. Though he wanted to be by Kakashi’s side, Obito knew deep down that Genma was right. It wasn’t healthy for him to lock himself up in that room, and it took a messy fight with Kakashi’s parents to realize that he needed some space to truly sort out his thoughts. He needed to reflect on everything _properly,_ so that when Kakashi wakes up, Obito will be a little more prepared to face their shaky future.

“Just going out to clear my head somewhere,” Obito finally answers, Izumi tilting her head to the side in response. He truly wishes that he could bring Izumi to the hospital to see Kakashi as she wished, but he just didn’t have the heart in him to do so today. “I’ll visit Kakashi tomorrow, so I can take you with me then, I promise,” he adds, a note for himself, mainly. Obito has a tendency of leaving unannounced nowadays.

“W-Wait,” Izumi says, suddenly dropping her boots onto the floor as she fumbles to put them on. “I-I want to come with you!” She trips a little as she steps into her shoes, scurrying over to Obito’s place with an uncharacteristic eagerness in her eyes. The sight catches Obito off guard, the older male gaping slightly at the sudden change in behavior.

“I…I’m not really going anywhere—” Obito tries to say, unsure of whether or not Izumi understood that Obito truly did not intend to do anything but sit around somewhere outside for a while, but Izumi only shakes her head adamantly.

“I don’t care where you’re going,” Izumi says, the subtle shakiness in her voice slowly smoothening out, “I just…I want to spend some time with you.” She looks away for a moment, a light glow on her cheeks as she zips her coat up, nodding mostly to herself before meeting Obito’s eyes once more. “It’s…been a long time.” 

Obito’s mouth opens in surprise, for once at a loss for words. Izumi stares back up at him with a surprising amount of strength, a sliver of the once vibrant girl she was before reflected in her glittering irises. Something tugs at the corner of his lips, and Obito has to resist the urge to smile like a fool.

-

Obito gets off at the last stop, Izumi following closely behind. They’re by the edge of town, walking along the side of the empty road towards a place Obito knows well. They walk mostly in silence, Obito leading the way with his hands in his pocket, bracing the winds that swirled fallen leaves off of the ground. He glances back every now and then to check on Izumi, his sister’s eyes trained on the field beside them, the tall grasses grazing her hips.

After a few minutes, Izumi pauses as they reach a familiar path, eyes trailing across their surroundings as Obito turns to look at her expectantly. She meets Obito’s gaze, recognition evident in her features as she rubs her gloved hands together. “I know this place,” she says quietly, almost in awe as she walks to catch up to Obito’s brisker pace.

Obito gives her a small smile in return. “We used to come here as kids,” Obito tells her, gesturing for her to follow him as they continue on down the path. “It used to be a sunflower field. I remember you saying that the _big flowers look like eyeballs_ or something like that,” he recounts with a slight laugh, glancing back and catching Izumi’s blush at his imitation. He huffs a little as he turns back around, eyes falling onto the abandoned gazebo at the end of the path. “It’s colder out here than I thought…”

“It isn’t so bad,” Izumi says behind him, and she lets out a soft gasp at the sight up ahead. “That used to be so pretty…”

Obito takes a moment to pause, staring at the decaying gazebo with a thin smile and a faint sense of déjà vu. “No one’s been here in a while to take care of it,” Obito absently says, heading up to the steps and taking a seat on the bottom stair. “I remember that you wanted to take pictures with this thing all the time. Something about it made you feel like a little princess.” There’s a small smile on his lips as Izumi only shakes her head in embarrassment, hiding her gaze as she carefully takes a seat next to him. “I know it’s kind of ugly, but I don’t really have anywhere else to go.”

“I don’t mind,” Izumi reassures him, bringing her knees to her chest. “It’s just a little weird…being here again after so long…” She bites her lip, the wind brushing through stray pieces of her hair, watching as the grasses bended in tune to the draft. “So much has changed…”

Obito swallows, the reminder of time bringing a familiar taste to his tongue. The hand in his pocket twitches, searching for a pack that isn’t there, a tinge of disappointment coating his features. He had promised himself he would stop smoking, humiliated by the pack he burned through the day Kakashi overdosed. He had wasted so much time at that skate park, cigarette buds littered by his feet as he struggled to force himself to forget about everything, forget about _Kakashi._ The thought alone fills him with remorse, and he has to remind himself not to get too caught up in the memory. Obito scratches his head, clearing his throat as he looks for words to say.

“Everything changes with time,” is all Obito can really say, a bit embarrassed at his inability to speak. “Sometimes I wonder if they’ll ever fix this place up.” Obito taps his fist against the wood of the gazebo, flinching a bit as dust and dirt shift and fall from the disturbance. “Replant the sunflowers…clean this damn thing up. It was a pretty place, but I guess this town is too old to care about things like that.”

Izumi lets out a low hum, her own fingers tracing the decayed wood beneath her. “Is this where you’d always go off to before?” she asks him, and when Obito glances at her in confusion, her eyes don’t quite meet his.

“What do you mean?”

Izumi presses her lips together, a slight frown on her features as she searches for the right words. “Sometimes you’d leave the house without telling me or…him about where you were going…especially during the summer time.” Obito grimaces a bit at the mention of their deceased father, but he shakes the thought off, listening instead to his sister speak, “I used to wonder where you’d go all the time, but whenever you came back, you’d tell me that it didn’t matter…and then change the subject…Was this the place you’d go to all the time?”

Obito blinks, the distant memory stirring a strange sense of nostalgia out of him. He had almost forgotten how aloof he could be, not realizing what Izumi might have thought of his younger exploits. “…No…” Obito answers carefully, unwilling to tell Izumi about the days he spent wasting away at shitty parties with shitty people. “Not always. I…I didn’t really start coming back here until recently…” Obito lets out a deep breath. “Not until I met Kakashi.”

Izumi’s lips part in surprise, her gaze falling in slight sorrow. “Did you guys come here often?” she asks a bit timidly.

Obito glances back at her briefly before he stares out at the grassy field, memories filling his head of days spent here with Kakashi. Sometimes they would come during the day, lazy Saturday afternoons to sleepy Sunday nights. Other times they would come past midnight or just at the break of dawn. He hadn’t realized how often he and Kakashi ended up coming to this same field, and the reminder of Kakashi’s persistent presence in his life feels bittersweet.

“I guess so,” Obito answers, a hint of melancholy in his tone. “His life…our lives, I guess, get pretty hectic sometimes. Kakashi’s easily overwhelmed by things like crowds and just…people…so he’d always look for a quiet place to go to, a place to clear his mind. I’m pretty sure this field is the only place in existence like that, or at least in this town. A nice and quiet place where the two of us could finally be alone.” Obito swallows, gaze trailing to the sky up above, the clouds painting the horizon with a swirling silver. “It helped him clear his mind…at least for a little while.” 

Izumi shifts beside him, her head leaning against the wooden frame beside her as she gazes at the empty path stretched out ahead of them. “It must have been nice…” she says, Obito glancing back at her in response. “I think…having a clear mind is important…I…I still need to work on it,” Izumi continues, crossing her ankles, boots clicking together as she does. “Ms. Uzumaki says so, too.”

Obito nods his head in understanding. “How has she been?” he asks her, rolling his shoulders back with a soft sigh.

“Good, she’s much better than all the other ones,” Izumi answers, something akin to relief in her tone. Obito has lost track of how many therapists Izumi has gone to, but it seems she’s finally settled on one, despite Ms. Uzumaki being a good hour and a half drive away. “She’s more…approachable, I think, and it feels like she really does care when I talk to her.”

Obito gives his sister a small smile. “I’m glad,” he says, reaching out instinctively to ruffle her hair, but he pauses, noticing Izumi’s slight flinch at the action. His heart drops a little in his chest, the very exchange breaking his heart, and he scratches the back of his head with a small apology.

“It’s…it’s okay,” Izumi tells him quietly, a bit sheepishly as she sits up straight once more. “I…I don’t mind.” She closes her eyes, as if waiting for Obito to pat her head like he used to, but Obito only shakes his head at the offer with slight amusement in his eyes.

Silence falls between them for a little while, the two merely sharing each other’s presence as they watch the grass dance to the wind around them. Obito can taste a bit of smoke on his tongue again, and he shifts in slight discomfort, tapping his fingers against his arm in search for a distraction.

“I remember once…you mentioned that Kakashi has really bad nightmares,” Izumi suddenly brings up, catching Obito’s attention. She has a contemplative look in her eyes, squinting as she gazes up at the sky. “Do you know what they were about?”

“…I don’t,” Obito answers truthfully, the question holding more weight than Izumi realizes. “It wasn’t something he ever liked to share.” His eyes are sad as he recalls how sleepless Kakashi would look every morning at school, how absolutely _exhausted_ he became from nights spent waking up and falling back into nightmare after nightmare.

“O-Oh, sorry…” Izumi says with a slight bow of her head, seeming to sense Obito’s discomfort. “I didn’t mean to…”

“It’s fine, you just surprised me, that’s all,” Obito reassures her, this time moving to brush her stray hairs behind her ear. Izumi doesn’t flinch. “I just know that his nightmares would get so bad that he had a hard time sleeping. Sometimes he would call me in the middle of the night, and he’d ask me to just talk to take his mind off of whatever he’s dreamt of. At school, he’d tell me that all he could ever think about were those nightmares. He’d never give me details but...just the way they seemed to haunt him through the day tells me that his nightmares must have been pretty terrible.” 

“Oh, gosh,” Izumi whispers. “And he’s had them for so long…”

Obito turns to look at her with an expression of concern. “Is something wrong?” he asks her gently, attempting to meet her eyes as Izumi chews on her pinky nail.

Izumi’s expression appears conflicted for a moment as she opens her mouth to speak, only to close it once more. Seconds pass as she struggles to grasp her words, Obito waiting patiently for the girl to speak.

After several attempts, she begins, “You said I used to have night terrors…but I honestly never remember them.” Izumi shifts a little more, moving so that she faces Obito, but her eyes still do not meet his. “I don’t remember what I do during my night terrors when I wake up, so they’ve never really been a problem for me…not _really,_ at least. But…but lately…the _nightmares_ I have…they’ve become so _clear._ And I remember them so well, and they’re terrible, but I never know how to deal with them. I can’t sleep because of them sometimes, too,” she confesses, and Obito watches as she slowly begins to shake.

“What were they about?” he tries to ask, watching as Izumi freezes, pupils dilating with what looks like fear. Obito almost regrets his words, but Izumi answers him anyways.

“They’re always about dad,” she says, her voice so small, and Obito feels his heart strain in his chest. “He’ll show up and tell me that I was bad for not listening to him…that I was bad for _leaving_ him. He’ll say these things over and over again…that he isn’t gone…that he’ll come back one day…that he’ll come back for me…” Izumi’s grip on her lap tightens, tears forming in her eyes, voice wavering with every word. “I don’t always have these nightmares…On those days, I don’t dream at all. But when I do have these nightmares, I never know what to do. They feel so real. Then when I wake up, I wake up scared. Scared that he really will come back. That he really will _come back for me.”_

 _“Izumi—”_ Obito breathes, his throat seeming to close up on him as he listens to his sister’s words.

“I’ve never had dreams that felt so _real,”_ Izumi shakily says. “I…I know he won’t come back…I know he _can’t_ …but sometimes it feels like he really will. Sometimes mom or her fiancé will knock on the door, and for some reason I’ll be too scared to open it…because I expect dad to be there instead…waiting for me…” Her breaths are thin, her grip on her tights rendering her knuckles white. “I don’t know how Kakashi ever dealt with this…and I know for him, it’s probably _worse._ It’s so _hard._ Everywhere I go I feel like dad is watching me, and just when I start to feel a little better again, I have another nightmare. Sometimes even in the middle of the day I’ll remember everything all over again, and I can’t handle it…”

Obito feels his heart stretch in his chest, memories of Izumi’s almost lifeless state in the past reminding him once more of how he’d realized his father’s actions too late. Genma’s words cross his mind once more, and he bites his tongue to snuff the all-too-familiar guilt crawling within his system.

“I know it’s hard, Izumi, I know it’s hard to endure this but…but just know that you’re okay now,” Obito tells her, and he feels pathetic for having nothing else to say, but this is all he can offer her besides a fruitless apology. He deeply desires a way to make things up to her, to take these memories from Izumi’s head, to go back in time and _stop_ it all from happening, but he knows that he _can’t._ _He can only make sure to be there for her as she recovers._

He turns again, searching for Izumi’s eyes, and as soon as he catches them, he refuses to let her gaze wander anymore. “I will _never_ let anything like that happen to you ever again. Dad’s gone for good, he can’t hurt you anymore, and I won’t let _anyone else_ hurt you from now on. No matter who it is, I’ll protect you. I’ll protect you with everything I have, and I’ll give you the life you _deserve.”_ Obito reaches out, carefully taking her hand in his and watching as tears fall from his little sister’s eyes. “You’ll be okay, Izumi. I _promise_ you you’ll be okay.”

Izumi sniffs, eyes falling to their hands as her tears drip onto her glove. “But I’m still _so scared,_ Obito. I’m still _so scared,_ being outside, _alone._ I can’t even go to school without feeling like dad will take me out of class all over again. I hate being alone, I hate being alone _so much_ because everything is so much scarier when you’re alone, and—”

“It’s okay to be scared, Izumi, you’ve been through so much,” Obito whispers, quietly soothing her cries. “I won’t leave you alone anymore. I’ll always make sure to be there, and when I can’t be there, I’ll make sure someone you trust will be there with you instead. Any time you feel like you can’t do it anymore, _call me, wake me up,_ I don’t care if I’m exhausted or hours away, _I will be there for you.”_

Izumi’s lips part, seemingly stunned by Obito’s words as she lets out a shaky breath, her free arm coming up to wipe at her tears. Obito watches her gently, his own eyes beginning to moisten as well. “I’m sorry, Obito,” she suddenly says, voice hitched by her sobs, “I’m _so_ sorry I shut you out…that I pushed you away every time you tried to talk to me…I’m so sorry, I was too scared, too _weak_ to—”

“You don’t need to apologize,” Obito tells her, squeezing her hand as he moves to swipe her tears. _“God,_ Izumi, you of all people have nothing to be sorry about. This wasn’t your fault, _none of it was._ I’m only sorry that I didn’t realize things sooner, but it doesn’t matter anymore. It doesn’t matter that you pushed me away because you’re not anymore, and I won’t let you either.” Obito swallows, feeling the tell-tale sting in the back of his throat as his emotions begin to overwhelm him. “I’ll always be there for you from now on, Izumi. I always have been, but I’ll be there even _more._ I’ll never let anyone touch you again. I’ll keep you safe no matter what.” Obito squeezes her hand, memories of carrying her on his back as they frolicked through these sunflower fields rendering him breathless. “And you’re not _weak,_ Izumi. The fact that you’re here, the fact that you’re brave enough to face every day, to go to school, to live with these nightmares despite what happened to you shows that you aren’t _weak._ You’re pushing forward, and you came to me today. You’re facing your problems and taking the steps you need to recover, and if that isn’t _strength,_ I don’t know what is.” 

Izumi’s lips part in awe for a moment, tears trailing down her cheeks as she stares wondrously back at Obito. She lets out another shaky breath, letting go of Obito’s hand with a swallow. “Can I hug you?” she quietly asks, the small request nearly stopping Obito’s heart.

His eyes melt, tender gaze filling with tears. _“Of course,”_ Obito whispers, and as Izumi moves to wrap her arms around him, he feels warmth slip down his cheeks. Izumi softly cries into their embrace, and Obito holds her closer, collecting her tears on his shoulder and pressing a soft kiss against her temple. _“I love you,”_ he breathes, and he’s a little kid again, staring in awe at a little baby girl in a crib.

 _“I love you, too,”_ Izumi returns, voice barely above a whisper as she pulls away, staring up into Obito’s eyes once more. “Y-You’ve always been there for me…you always _tried_ to be a good big brother…and you are one but…I…I didn’t let you help, and I’m _sorry—”_ Obito opens his mouth to speak once more, to reject the apology, but Izumi does not let him speak. “I know that you’re going to tell me that it isn’t my fault, but that’s not what I mean. You always tried to help me, but…but with what happened with _Kakashi_ …I should have been there for you this time…I’m such a terrible sister, I should have been there for you, like you’ve always been there for me.”

Obito shakes his head at her, pressing a soft kiss against Izumi’s forehead. “You didn’t need to be.”

“I know,” Izumi whispers, “but I wanted to be.”

A smile makes its way onto Obito’s face despite himself, and he pulls away, wiping away his own tears and gazing warmly into Izumi’s eyes. “You don’t need to worry about me. Just promise me that you’ll always tell me when something’s wrong from now on,” he says, and his hand is unbelievably shaky, but he lifts his pinky up for her to take anyways.

Izumi looks up at him in surprise, the innocent gesture looking so out of place in such a faded field, but they both feel its sincerity, and Izumi is reminded of all the days Obito would braid her hair, hold her hand, cook her food, wash her clothes, take her to school, everything, just _everything_ he’s ever done for her. Tears begin to well up in her eyes again, and a small, watery smile slowly forms on her lips as well.

Izumi glances down at Obito’s finger one last time before lifting her own pinky, linking it firmly with his. _“I promise,”_ she whispers. “And I promise that I’ll always be there for you from now on, too.” She retracts her hand, smiling to herself as she shifts to lean against Obito’s shoulder. Obito lets out a soft sigh, reaching out to pat her head once more. “I don’t know about mom and her fiancé,” she quietly says, voice cracking a bit as she sniffles through the last of her tears, “but I do know that I trust you, Obito.” She turns her gaze onto him, her eyes shining with dew. “I know that I’ll always be safe with you.”

Obito stares back in surprise before he shakes his head, quickly turning his gaze to the sky as he lets out a breathless laugh. “Dammit, Izumi. How many times are you going to make me cry today?” He pinches the bridge of his nose in an effort to stifle more tears before letting out a loud, exaggerated exhale. “Enough of this. Let’s go home.” He then stands, smiling as he holds out his hand for Izumi to take.

Izumi stares at Obito for a moment before taking his offered hand. “You know, when I first met Kakashi, I thought he had a pretty smile,” she suddenly says as Obito helps her up, her own lips lifting with her words.

Obito raises an eyebrow in interest. _“Just_ his smile?”

Izumi lets out a soft giggle. “Well, no, but that’s not what I’m trying to say. Ever since Kakashi showed up, you started smiling a little more, too.” Obito gives her a look of surprise, his own cheeks beginning to color at the sincerity in Izumi’s words. “I should thank Kakashi,” she softly continues. “Because of him, I got to see that my big brother has a pretty smile, too.”

Her eyes glimmer like little pearls, her own smile warming Obito’s heart. The sun seems to peek through the silver clouds, shining down a single pillar of white light.

“You’ve always had a pretty smile,” Obito tells her, ruffling her hair once more. “I want to see it more from now on, okay?”

Izumi lets out a little laugh, one that sounds like little bells to Obito’s ears. “Let’s wait until Kakashi wakes up,” she says, her grip tightening on Obito’s hand ever so slightly. “Then we can all smile together.”

-

His eyes feel heavy.

 _Is this a dream?_ the thought crosses his mind, but he receives no answer. Everything is black.

He has never had a dream with nothing in it. He is carefully silent, listening closely through the darkness of his surroundings for any sounds, any directions, any _voices_ to guide his way.

Nothing, at first. Nothing. Maybe he isn’t even dreaming. Maybe he is only sleeping, and for once his mind has spared him of his nightmares. Maybe. Maybe. _Maybe._

Then he hears laughter.

It’s soft, _sad,_ almost.

 _Laughter,_ it’s a laugh that he’s heard before. It’s a memory, a memory that feels far away, but it’s close because he can hear it now. _He can hear it._

_Who is it?_

_Who is that?_

He feels his wrist twitch, and then an incredible emptiness in his stomach.

_He’s waking up._

It’s another voice he recognizes. A memory…a memory so far away…

_He’s waking up!_

This isn’t a dream, he finally realizes. He hears music, pretty music, and for a second, the laughter he’d heard seems to harmonize perfectly with its tune.

_Who is it?_

_Who is that?_

_This isn’t a dream._

He lets out a gasp, breathing in the world around him as his eyes flicker open. Instantly he is flooded with white. Everything is white. He closes them again, chest heaving and stomach aching as he struggles to make sense of this burning sensation.

He hears more words, but he can’t understand them. Every blink, more and more colors come to life. Colors, shapes, figures, _people._

_People._

_Laughter._

He knows them. He knows that laugh. The memories come closer as his heart begins to beat faster.

Finally, his eyes open.

_“Kakashi!”_

Warm eyes stare tearfully into his own.

-

It was in the month of November that Hatake Kakashi met Uchiha Obito for the very first time.

Kakashi was just a boy sitting at a desk in an unfamiliar school, staring into the dark eyes of another unfamiliar boy who honestly looked as if he had just rolled out of bed. Kakashi thought it was funny back then, how this boy in a dirty jacket walked into class thirty minutes late like he owned the place, demanding Kakashi to get out of his seat. _How careless,_ Kakashi mused to himself. He would never take someone like that seriously.

But Kakashi hadn’t expected that boy to push him out of his desk. Or for that boy to punch so hard. Or for that boy to actually come over to his house afterwards. Or for that boy to suddenly become so much more than just some _boy._

That November was filled with surprises.

This November is no different.

This November, Hatake Kakashi wakes up, and the first thing he remembers is that boy in the dirty jacket.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The longest chapter so far, congratulations if you made it down here LOL I hope this made up for the previous chapter. Sorry I haven’t been able to reply to comments, but I always read them all and I really appreciate them! Thank you for all of the support up until now, and yes we’re reaching the end <3


	21. Chapter 21

His breaths are short. Every movement of his chest feels like boulders sliding down a mountain. When he flexes his fingers, their stiffness tingle with an uncomfortable amount of tenderness. Everything about him, about _himself_ feels foreign. He’s stuck in a body he’s unfamiliar with. It moves, but he does not move with it.

The chaos that embarked after Kakashi first opened his eyes is over. He is resting in bed, and exhausted is the only word he can think of to describe his current state. A nurse quietly checks his vitals, but his vision spaces in and out of reality.

“Kakashi,” a voice to his right speaks. Kakashi’s eyes are glazed, but he has just enough sense to respond, gaze slowly drifting to his side. Things are still blurred, faces only lines and shapes, but he recognizes this person. One name comes to mind, but it isn’t the person he thought it was.

Kakashi opens his mouth to speak, but only thin air comes out. Then he’s coughing, a rough and abrupt sound that cuts through the thickened air, his face turning red as the nurse quickly fixes him a glass of water.

The liquid slips past his lips.

He forces himself to swallow.

The muscles in his throat cry out in protest, and just like that, the memories come rushing back.

Kakashi gags, stomach contracting as the urge to vomit forces him over the edge. He tastes dust on his tongue, dust and pills in every color.

He hears the calls of his name, the hurried movements and rustles all around him, but he is torn from the present and thrown into the past. The sounds he hears today are morphed by the sounds of that night more than a month ago. Tears fall from his eyes, that bitter taste lingering in the center of his throat, burning, burning, _burning._

The memories end abruptly, and it all becomes clear to him, a sudden realization that stabs a boy through a heart that is already broken.

His life had ended that night.

He’s awake now, but like all those nights Kakashi spent lying in bed, staring miserably at the ceiling as his nightmares sealed him to his sheets, he wishes he wasn’t.

Because Kakashi knows that even as he breathes today, his life had ended that night. The life he knew, despite all its agony, was no longer his. It had been taken away from him the moment those pills slipped past his lips.

Now, this life he lives, _or the life he will have to live,_ is one he does not know.

Every harsh memory is another pill swallowed. It replays over and over again in Kakashi’s head like a broken record – he can still hear the music, he can still see his hands shaking, he can still taste the iron that drips from his lips. The memories consume him in waves, digging deeper and deeper into his skin like thorns on a bush.

He should be used to fear by now.

But he isn’t.

The thought of tomorrow feels far away, untouchable, while yesterday is still grasped firmly in his hands.

He can’t let go.

The pressure increases. It pierces through his flesh and digs, digs, _digs._ The pain jolts his arm, and without his control, his body thrashes. From his throat comes a scream.

_I don’t want to wake up. I don’t want to wake up._

_Please, please don’t wake me up._

-

Obito should be used to waiting by now. He’s waited nearly two months for Kakashi to wake up, but they tell him he’ll have to wait a little longer before he can visit. 

Like before, Obito is never given a concrete time. He is only told to wait patiently for an indefinite length until Kakashi is stable enough for any visitors beyond close family.

Kakashi’s uncle, the only person really allowed in the room with Kakashi anymore, updates Obito on Kakashi’s condition. While Kakashi is conscious, he is far from lucid. The heavy medications he had been put on to support him through his comatose state greatly deprive him of his senses.

For the most part, his uncle describes Kakashi as a shadow of his former self. Kakashi does not answer when spoken to, but sometimes, his uncle says, Kakashi will at least _react._ To his voice, he turns to listen. As he enters the room, he turns to look. But most of the time, Kakashi is frozen. Eyes sunken. The food they set out on a tray for him left untouched.

At least once a day, Kakashi lashes out. He’ll snap his head to one direction, then the next, seeing or hearing things that are not there, and then he’ll scream. He’ll shout. He’ll struggle to break free, and his uncle is promptly ushered out. Hallucinations are a common side effect of his current treatment, but Obito knows there must be more. He just wishes he could be there for his boyfriend during this terrifying time.

It’s been more than a week, and Obito has yet to see Kakashi again. It’s almost unbearable to know that Kakashi is awake but he is unable to see him, the situation feeling as if he’s grasping for a shimmer of gold on a thread hanging just barely out of reach.

He wasn’t there the day Kakashi came to. Obito was still in school when Kakashi’s uncle called him and told him the news. A part of him was bitter, having spent nearly every day by Kakashi’s side since the incident yet still missing the opportunity to be there when his boyfriend finally did wake up. Though it wasn’t like the fairy tales say, anyways. Kakashi’s awakening was not tranquil by any means, the boy barely able to recognize anyone in the room or form coherent sentences, constantly lashing out at anyone who dared to come near. Obito isn’t sure if it was something he would have liked to see at all.

At this point, Obito really only wishes to see Kakashi again. To see him move, to see him smile. He doesn’t care about anything else at all.

Obito isn’t sure how much longer he has to wait before the doctors deem Kakashi stable enough for other visitors, and it pains him to sit around and wonder in silence.

But he’ll do it. He’ll do it for Kakashi.

 _Tomorrow,_ Obito hopes, and he hopes and hopes and hopes again for _tomorrow_ to finally become _today._

-

_Another morning, another day._

_You didn’t think it would come to this, did you, Kakashi?_

_You let fate handle you that night._

_You didn’t try to fight it. I know, because you aren’t fighting now._

_There’s a part of you that is relieved._

_But another part of you that is not._

_Another morning, another day, another life._

_You live, but only by luck._

_Today is where that luck ends._

_Perhaps it’s time to stop running._

_To stop hiding._

_To stop dreaming._

_Perhaps it’s time to finally wake up._

-

When Kakashi wakes up this time, everything comes into focus. Blurs sharpen into real images. Slurs thin into actual words. Consciously, he shifts his leg. Then his arms. Then his fingers.

When his nurse speaks to him, Kakashi finally answers back. When he speaks, they understand him.

He marks his pain as an _8._ Throughout the day, it falls to a _6._ Then a _7._ Then a _5._ By the next morning, he sits on a _4._

His uncle comes, and for the first time since he’s woken up, Kakashi greets him with a small smile and a stable gaze.

When Kakashi speaks, his tone is apologetic. He does not fully realize what he’s saying, or what his uncle is hearing until he is pulled into the man’s arms. Kakashi’s gown dampens on his shoulder, and Kakashi’s lips part in awe as it all dawns on him at once.

He’s never seen his uncle cry like this before.

On the center of the wall ahead, Kakashi sees a clock. The red hand steadily counts the seconds as they drain by. Kakashi only then realizes that he does not know what day it is.

He does not know how long he’s been gone.

How long has his uncle waited for him to finally open his eyes? How long did he sit and wonder if Kakashi would truly survive?

His uncle was the man Kakashi looked up to his entire life, the man who took him in when no one else would, the man who tried his best to be the parent Kakashi never had. It is in that moment that Kakashi finally realizes how much he truly means to someone.

And how much he has hurt that _someone._

Kakashi buries his face into his uncle’s chest, gripping tight to the first person to ever believe in him, the first person to see him for who he is. It feels like his breath has been released – _relief,_ he feels _relief._

 _“Uncle,”_ Kakashi whispers, _“thank you.”_

For the first time in a _long time,_ Kakashi’s mind is clear. It feels like a nightmare has finally ended.

But now that he’s awake, the whole world seems to have fallen onto his shoulders.

-

“Kakashi?”

They call his name constantly. His doctors, his nurses, his uncle. His current visitor has taken it to habit, too. It’s a way to ensure that he is still aware of his surroundings. Something about it feels a bit bittersweet.

Kakashi glances up, slowly meeting eyes with the other male in the room. “Yes?”

“You haven’t touched your food yet…Aren’t you hungry?”

Kakashi blinks, gaze falling to the tray of food over his lap, the rather stale-looking hospital dishes barely tempting him in the slightest. Kakashi only gives the other male a sheepish smile. “I think I’d prefer greasy pizza over…whatever _this_ is.” His voice is still so soft, so fragile and raw from disuse, and every little shift of his body feels foreign.

It’s odd. He’s awake, _fully_ awake, but he’s never felt so disconnected from reality before.

“It’ll take a while before you’re well enough to stomach stuff like that again.” A lighthearted laugh. “Come on, eat something.”

Kakashi softly exhales, carefully pulling the tray closer. “Sorry, Yahiko,” he quietly says, pausing for a moment and swallowing down the strange taste on his tongue. “It’s just a little hard to do…well... _anything_ right now.”

Yahiko gives him a slight smile of sympathy, settling into the chair next to his bed in an attentive manner. “Well, you’re better than you were when you first woke up. You nearly gave me a heart attack with that scream.”

Kakashi somehow finds it in him to laugh. “I screamed because I saw your stupid face again.”

Yahiko grins despite the jab. _“There’s_ the Kakashi I remembered. Glad to hear you haven’t forgotten my stupid face over the years.”

“It’s hard to forget—” Kakashi stops himself, what was supposed to be another joke struck down by the sudden dose of reality.

 _Over the years,_ the phrase feels like a slap to the face. Time moves on despite the way it freezes around Kakashi. He falls further and further behind while the rest of the world pushes forward, and Kakashi just can’t seem to hold on to the traces of what once was. Kakashi is always behind, always, always behind. Yahiko left him a long time ago, and Kakashi wonders how time has affected him while they were apart. They aren’t the same people they were years ago, that’s certain. The changes are most prominent in Yahiko’s eyes, they hold a level of maturity he lacked when they were last together.

Kakashi’s voice is soft as he speaks, “It’s been a long time, hasn’t it?”

Yahiko’s gaze falls for a moment, the words bristling against his skin as the air in the room suddenly shifts. “Too long, I think,” he finally says, and the way his hands rub against his jeans gives away his apprehension. “I’m sorry,” he apologizes suddenly, Kakashi unable to do anything but blink blankly back in confusion. “I should have called…or texted…or something.”

“You didn’t need to,” Kakashi reminds him, memories tickling the tips of his fingers as days long forgotten gradually begin to return to his grasp. “You said you needed space,” he slowly recounts, “to think things over…and I gave it to you. So really, there’s nothing to be sorry about.”

Yahiko swallows, the smile on his lips uncertain. “But I didn’t need to completely ignore you – all your messages like I did. You deserved to know how things were going for me, and I should have kept my tabs on you. As your friend.”

The word brings about an awkward tension between them. Kakashi almost wishes he hadn’t heard it. “It’s okay,” Kakashi says softly, blinking slowly. “I was just a lonely loser looking for someone to talk to. I knew you needed space but I bothered you anyways…so… _I’m_ sorry.”

Yahiko’s fingers clench ever so slightly. “That’s not it. I saw every message. I could have answered back then, but I didn’t. You didn’t do anything wrong, I…I’m just a dick.” He laughs to relieve himself of some of the awkwardness, masking himself from some of the guilt. “I said we could be friends, yet there I was, ignoring you when you wanted someone to talk to. When you stopped texting me I automatically assumed the worst and thought you hated me or something. It would have been my fault if that was the case, and _god,_ I felt so guilty. Then I got the news of your hospitalization and just… somehow, I thought this was all my fault.”

Kakashi fiddles with the stiff linen of the hospital’s bed sheets. “Uncle thought this was his fault, too,” he whispers absently, gaze somewhere else. “Says he shouldn’t have left me home alone that day. Says he shouldn’t have stayed out for so long. Says a lot of things that don’t really matter, because he isn’t to blame, and neither are you.” Kakashi swallows, remembering the music, the fingers around his neck. It takes everything he has not to voice his true thoughts on who truly is the one at fault. “…I stopped texting you not because I hated you. I stopped texting you because I found someone else to talk to.”

The music fades.

The fingers disappear.

Yahiko faintly hums. “Obito, right?” he asks, and Kakashi glances back up at him in surprise. “One of your last messages to me was of this guy who kicked your ass and then rolled you a joint in the same day.” Yahiko suddenly looks away, his gaze distant, as if trailing after something forgotten. “Reminded me a little bit of us.”

Kakashi’s throat strains as he swallows once more. “I must have a thing for ugly assholes,” he jokes, but his voice cracks with the words, the mere mention of Obito’s name rendering him breathless.

Yahiko doesn’t react, the faint crease between his brows foreign and unreadable. The way Yahiko looks at him is strange, but it isn’t a look Kakashi is completely unfamiliar with. Many things remain unspoken between them, thinning the air to an almost suffocating point. Kakashi decides to break the silence with the only thing he knows is true.

“You didn’t expect me to move on, did you?” The words are sudden, a little harsher than Kakashi intended, and the look he receives from Yahiko is a little stronger than surprise. He looks caught, as if Kakashi rubbed salt into a buried wound.

Yahiko’s lips part, but whatever he wants to say seems to disappear with a sigh. He’s conflicted, Kakashi can tell. He always was an open book.

“I missed you,” Yahiko finally says, his voice barely above a rasp. It’s abrupt, unexpected, but his words linger in the air like smoke from a blown out flame.

He almost looks desperate.

Kakashi stares back at him in silence, expressionless. The clock on the wall ticks with every second of silence. Every slight hitch of the red hand further blurs the thread-like lines drawn between them.

Before Kakashi can answer, there’s a knock on the door. Both males turn their attention towards the sudden disturbance in surprise, and Yahiko immediately gets up, moving to open it. Kakashi releases a breath he didn’t realize he was holding, somewhat relieved with this unexpected interference. Their past is complicated. Kakashi would much rather leave it behind.

With a soft sigh, Kakashi allows himself to look up, only to meet eyes with the ones that always managed to stop his heart.

_“Obito.”_

For a moment, the memories simmer in all at once, returning in a spiral that twirls and twirls with both joy and pain. The sorrow, the regret, they all return, and Kakashi feels his senses dwindle, the weight of the earth dripping onto his shoulders, molding against his scars. Then he sees into Obito’s eyes, eyes that held his world, that comforted him in his darkest hours, the same eyes he had fallen in love with pulling him back to the surface, above the pain and above the sorrow and into a quiet field beneath the stars.

Obito’s own expression seems to mirror his, surprise then relief then sorrow then something else within a single blink. In the end, they arrive to the same grassy field, fall under the same moonlit sky. It’s a connection they both make as one, _feel_ as one, and the silence in the room speaks a million words for them. Each silently understood.

The distance shortens.

To them, they’re the only two left in the world.

 _“Kakashi,”_ Obito whispers softly, as if any louder the illusion would shatter. He looks as if he wants to say more, lips parted in search for his voice, but his gaze suddenly meets Yahiko’s to the side, and his expression falls into that of confusion. “…Who…is this?”

Kakashi glances back at Yahiko, slightly dazed in a single strained second. He nearly forgets where they are, too caught up in Obito’s presence to fully absorb his surroundings, or the bit of pain that passes through Yahiko’s eyes. Before Kakashi can answer, Yahiko cuts him off with a small, sad smile.

“I’m just a friend,” is Yahiko’s answer, a waver in his voice that doesn’t go unnoticed. “A friend from a long time ago.” He reaches over, gently touching the back of Kakashi’s hand. “I’ll leave you two alone for a little while,” Yahiko whispers so that only Kakashi can hear before heading towards the door without another word. He sends Obito a polite smile as he leaves, and as the door closes, so do the curtains around their little world.

A million things hang suspended in the air. Neither knows what to say.

“You…you’re wearing that jacket…” Kakashi is the one to break the silence, his voice a soft rasp as Obito listens, clinging to every fragile word. “You wore that same damn jacket on the day we first met, the day we fought.” Kakashi lets out a breath of a laugh, and a weary smile stretches his lips, eyes of glass softening, reflecting Obito’s own. “I thought you looked like an absolute _prick_ in it.” More laughter, small, weak, but it’s a laugh that Obito can’t help but cherish.

Obito lets out a breath of his own amusement, slowly making his way to Kakashi’s side. “I feel like an absolute prick in it,” he says, the same sense of sentimentality coating his features, the warmth in his gaze melting as he watches tears slowly slip from Kakashi’s lashes. “You laughed in my face that day. Laughed and threw a punch you knew I’d never forget. If you told me that the kid I shoved out of a desk a year ago is the same person I fell in love with, I would have called you insane.”

“What’s even more insane is that I’m crying over the prick that nearly broke my nose,” Kakashi says, and he reaches out, Obito immediately leaning in and pulling Kakashi into his arms. Obito feels Kakashi’s tears against the nape of his neck, their arms tightening around one another simultaneously, fingers curling into fabric, desperate to feel each other after weeks clouded by uncertainty.

“I’m _sorry,”_ Kakashi shakily whispers, and Obito closes his eyes, a low sigh escaping his lips. “I’m _so sorry,_ Obito. I broke our promise, I broke every one of our promises and hurt you and—”

Obito hushes him gently, placing soft kisses against his temple as Kakashi moves to stifle his tears. “I don’t give a shit about those promises anymore,” Obito says, his own throat seeming to thicken with his emotions. “They gave me hope for the future, sure, but I don’t care for promises nearly as much as I care about _you._ You’re _alive,_ you’re awake, you’re here _right now,_ Kakashi, and that’s all that matters to me.”

“But I keep _hurting_ you,” Kakashi whimpers, pulling away to stare into Obito’s eyes as the shame that has built for a year spills from his lips. “All I do is lie and yell and _hurt_ you. I let my meds get to my head and screwed everything over for us, I-I made you angry with me and we fought and then I did _this_ and—”

“We both screwed up, Kakashi, I never should have said the things I did,” Obito quickly tells him, taking Kakashi’s hands in his and moving to sit on the edge of his bed. “It doesn’t matter. All those things we said to each other, I know you didn’t mean them like I didn’t mean mine. We were both overwhelmed and confused and stupid and _god,_ Kakashi, I love you too much to be angry with you. I could never be angry with you. I fucking tried, trust me, but I’m angrier at this damn world for being so cruel to people like us, angry at myself for letting my temper get the best of me _again,_ angry at the damn _universe_ for making me wait so fucking long just to hear your voice again. I can be angry with _anyone,_ Kakashi, but not you. Never you. I love you far too much.”

“B-But still,” Kakashi says, “even if they are just words, I-I called you such terrible things…I acted like your problems weren’t important…like your feelings didn’t _matter—”_

“You weren’t thinking and I wasn’t thinking. I forgive you, Kakashi, I really do. I just hope you can forgive me, too, for being such an inconsiderate asshole. I took things too far that day,” Obito shakily admits, shame evident in the way his breath quivers. “I knew you were overwhelmed with your meds, and I should have had enough sense to stop us before things got out of hand, but instead I fought back like a prideful idiot and had to deal with the consequences for it. We both _really_ messed up, but it’s okay now, because we’re still together.”

“B-But I _hit_ you,” Kakashi tries to say, and Obito only shakes his head, a soft smile on his lips.

“I’ve taken more than a slap from you. Besides, I deserved it. I really fucking deserved it,” Obito says with a little laugh, and Kakashi’s own lips lift at the quiet sound. “And if you think a slap is enough to keep me away from you, you got another thing coming, Kakashi.”

Kakashi lets out his own laugh despite his tears, his grip around Obito’s fingers tightening ever so slightly as he leans up, pressing a soft kiss against Obito’s lips. Obito holds him in place when he tries to pull away, locking their lips together and cherishing the taste he has dearly missed.

They part slowly, Kakashi’s smile a breathtaking sight to Obito’s beating heart. “Since when did you get so sweet?” Kakashi whispers, closing his eyes as Obito presses another kiss against his cheek. “Every time we speak I feel like all I do is cry.”

Obito smiles, feeling his skin warm and heart settle at their proximity. “It’s okay to cry,” he says reassuringly, reaching over and brushing Kakashi’s bangs to the side. “How are you feeling?”

“Honestly?” Kakashi begins, “Like shit. Everything feels funny and I’m still a little out of it, but I’m definitely better than I was last week. I don’t even remember anything very well except for all the _pain…_ My head still hurts, but it could be worse.” Kakashi grins. “At least you’re here with me now.”

“You’re damn right I am. I came to visit you almost every day, you know that?” Obito nudges Kakashi’s side with pointed eyes.

“What a dedicated boyfriend,” Kakashi jokingly praises, nudging him back before a pensive look washes over his features. “When I woke up, you were the first thing I thought about,” he suddenly confesses, a bit sheepish as he turns to stare up at Obito once more. “You and that ugly jacket of yours. For a second, I thought it was you in this room with me, but it was just my uncle and, um, Yahiko. I couldn’t even remember their names, all I could remember was yours. Is that…is that weird?”

Obito feels his heart warm with the words, cheeks coloring slightly at the revelation. “Well…it’s a little creepy, but I’d rather you think of me first than anyone else,” he utters, swiping away Kakashi’s tears. “I wanted to be there for you when you woke up. I knew I should have skipped school that day, a weird gut feeling I had told me to. I should have followed it.”

“You’re always trying to skip school, don’t use me as an excuse,” Kakashi chides, and Obito only lets out a laugh, nodding in agreement. “But…but I guess I shouldn’t talk…it’ll be a while before I even get out of here…and then…” Slowly, tears begin to drip from his lashes once more, and Obito quickly pulls him back into his arms, knowing fully well what was to come. “I really did it this time,” Kakashi gasps out, his body shaking as the reality of their situation hits him at full force. “I really proved everyone right. I couldn’t fucking control myself, and now I’m here in a damn hospital bed paying for it. I thought I could take care of myself, I really fucking thought I could, but that’s all it was. A stupid, _stupid_ little thought.”

“What the hell are you talking about? You did so much, you took care of yourself just _fine,”_ Obito tells him, pulling away to stare determinedly into Kakashi’s eyes, but Kakashi woefully shakes his head. “Kakashi, you pushed through an entire year and even _longer_ than that, struggling through meds, nightmares, and the crap from your parents, from _everyone._ You even had to deal with _me._ You are so much more capable than you give yourself credit for.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Kakashi refutes with another shake of his head. “It doesn’t matter that I just _barely_ survived for this long. That’s not taking care of myself, taking care of myself entails getting better. All I did was _endure._ Endure everything because I was stupid enough to think I could pull myself out of this mess. Instead I almost killed myself with the things that were supposed to save me and I’m only alive now thanks to _luck—”_

“Don’t say that, Kakashi—” 

“But it’s _true!”_ Kakashi cries out, tears falling more freely, and Obito’s gaze softens at the sight. “God, Obito, all I ever fucking do is _lose._ I just keep losing and losing to my own damn head, losing to things that aren’t even _there._ I just…I could never win, could I? Every time I tried to get better, from moving here, to taking new meds, anything, _everything_ I do, I just lose. To my parents. To Iruka, Nagato. The voices. To those prejudiced fuckers who bet on how long it would take for us to break – for _me_ to finally break and kill myself… _god,_ who was I trying to kid? All I ever do right is _lose.”_

“But you’re _alive,_ Kakashi,” Obito asserts, a certain passion in his voice that conveys his sincerity in each and every word. “You’re alive and breathing, and if you lost everything else, you at least won _this._ You won the one thing that matters most. You’re here, with me, and I’m never letting you go again.”

“I had no control over that, I have no control over _anything,”_ Kakashi shakily exhales, all the thoughts he had kept to himself ever since he became lucid spilling from his lips. “I wish I could believe you, but I always mess things up between us. Who knows how much more you can take before you’re sick of me for good? Oh, god, Obito, I so badly want to get _better,_ for me, for us, but I just keep getting _worse!”_

Obito quickly pulls Kakashi into his arms once more, coaxing Kakashi’s head into the crook of his neck and hushing him gently. “Better or worse, I’m here for you anyways. I…I’m sorry I couldn’t be there for you back then, but I’m here now. I’m here now, and I love you so fucking much it hurts to even hear you say those things.”

“But—”

“I’ll say it over and over again, a million times just to show you how much I fucking love you,” Obito whispers, pressing kiss after kiss to Kakashi’s temple. “I was so scared, Kakashi, _god,_ I was so scared I lost you. There were a million things I wanted to tell you but I was so afraid I wouldn’t get to. You mean the whole _world_ to me and I don’t know what I would have done if you were gone. I-I can’t tell you _enough_ how much I love you. I said it over and over again in this damn hospital room like a mad man, just praying that one day you’d wake up to say it back, and you’re here thinking that I’ll somehow become _sick_ of you? Fuck, I don’t care about anything else anymore. I don’t give a shit about promises or fights or what other people have to say about us, all I care about is _you.”_

Kakashi pulls away, staring into Obito’s eyes with teary ones of his own. “I’m sorry, Obito, I’m sorry—”

“Kakashi—”

“I’m sorry I made you wait, I’m sorry I’m so broken—”

“Kakashi—”

“I’m sorry I keep messing things up, I’m sorry I keep crying over stupid little things, and I’m sorry I doubted us, no, _you—”_

“Stop _apologizing_ to me,” Obito pleads, delicately cupping Kakashi’s cheeks and swiping his tears away. “Didn’t we just go over this? Man, you really are a little crybaby.” There’s affection in his tone despite his teasing words, gazing tenderly into Kakashi’s glassy eyes. “Please, Kakashi. You finally wake up from a coma and the only thing you can do is apologize to me? Something’s wrong with that picture, don’t you agree?”

Kakashi’s lips lift into a small smile, finding the situation a little silly himself. “M-Maybe it’s the meds…I’m still a little lightheaded and I can’t really think straight and I just realized I haven’t said I love you yet – Obito, _I love you.”_ Kakashi grips onto Obito’s shoulders, holding onto the one person who has managed to keep him above the surface. “You’re the only person to ever make me feel this way, and I’m so, _so_ glad it’s you. Even while my head hurts and the world doesn’t make much sense to me right now, I still love you.”

Obito feels his heart settle in his chest, finding Kakashi’s smile the most precious thing he’s ever seen. “I love you, too,” he returns in a whisper that only the two of them can hear. “Even when you’re delirious, I love you.”

Kakashi wraps his arms around Obito’s neck and pulls him in, their lips meeting in a soft and lazy kiss. The two indulge in themselves for a little while, savoring their mended connection before slowly parting, warmth on their cheeks and absolute devotion in their eyes.

Kakashi settles into Obito’s touch before he finally speaks, “Things aren’t going to be the same from now on, are they?” His voice is soft, a delicate tremble in his inflection. They both know it isn’t a question. 

Obito swallows, reality a heavy drape over his heart, but he refuses to let it ruin this moment. He’d rather dream for just a little while longer. “Let’s not think about that right now,” Obito breathes out, his hold on Kakashi tightening ever so slightly. “Let’s just...let’s just pretend we’re the only people in the world for a little while.”

Kakashi blinks as Obito buries his face into the crook of his neck, gaze drifting to the clock on the wall, the quiet ticking of the second hand seeming to halt at once. Kakashi breathes in the air around them, and he feels _safe._ Safe from the judgment outdoors and the voices in his head. _Safe,_ because even after all this time, Obito is still there, still here, with him.

Kakashi smiles. “When I’m with you, we always are.”

-

Obito leaves the hospital upon a nurse’s request for Kakashi to rest. Kakashi’s state is still fragile, and she advises that they don’t overwhelm him too much while he’s still recovering.

To Obito, it feels as if he himself has also woken up from a haze. There are a multitude of things on his mind, all focusing on the unknown future that lies ahead of him. The future, at this point, is completely out of his control. He can only hope that life will be kinder to him from now on.

Obito takes a moment to stare at the hospital, his eyes finding Kakashi’s window floors above. There are many, _many_ things that remain unspoken between the two of them, neither willing to break the bliss of their long-awaited time together. But as soon as Obito left, it all came rushing back, and again he feels tied to a pole, forced to endure the merciless world ahead of him, ahead of _them._ Obito tears his gaze away from the window, instead focusing on the road up ahead, a deep sigh escaping his lips. For a moment, the world seems to freeze, hanging on a single thread.

It all falls back into motion with a single call of his name.

Obito looks up, meeting eyes with a pair of brown that seems to reflect a world that is both too far away and too close to home. It takes Obito a second to recognize the stranger as the one who had been in Kakashi’s room earlier, and he cautiously crosses his arms over his chest. _A friend,_ the stranger had called himself. _A friend,_ but Obito knows there must be more.

“Hey,” the stranger says as he stops, a respectful distance set between them. “You’re Obito, right?”

Obito slowly nods his head.

The stranger gives him a kind smile. “I’m Yahiko,” he introduces himself, a hand out for Obito to shake. When Obito does, he continues, “Kakashi told me a little bit about you.” Yahiko digs his hands into the pockets of his jacket and clears his throat. “He…he really likes you.” 

Obito nods again, a careful look in his eyes. “I’d hope so.”

“Ah,” Yahiko lets out a huff, a somewhat embarrassed look on his face. “Sorry, this is all coming out wrong. I…I’ve spent most of my time out here trying to rehearse the things I’d say to you, but it feels like my words are failing me now that we’re here.” 

Obito frowns, confused by the sudden confession. “Why would you…?” he trails off, unsure of what to say or even ask, for that matter.

Yahiko stares at Obito for a moment before awkwardly clearing his throat again, taking a few steps back and leaning back against the cement wall of the hospital to gather his bearings. A winter chill washes over them, and Yahiko exhales deeply, eyes closed in thought.

After a few seconds, he speaks once more, “You don’t know who I am, do you?” Yahiko swallows. _“Was.”_

Obito considers the question, eyeing Yahiko’s guarded expression apprehensively. He has a good guess on who Yahiko may be, but why he is here _now,_ wishing to talk to Obito is a completely different story. Deciding to give into his curiosity, Obito takes his place on the wall beside Yahiko, his silence answering the question for him.

Yahiko seems to understand, humming a little to himself as he slowly opens his eyes. “I…was Kakashi’s boyfriend, a couple years ago,” he finally says, and Obito merely looks at him. He isn’t completely surprised. The way Yahiko had looked at Kakashi back in the room had given it away. “But I’ve had some time to think about my relationship with him, and I feel like… _other_ words would better suffice the way we treated each other.”

Obito’s frown returns, and he peers cautiously back at Yahiko, his words sounding rather odd. “He’s never mentioned you,” Obito bluntly states, but Yahiko seems to expect this revelation. “Not really, at least. He did tell me that he had a boyfriend in the past, but he never shared beyond that.”

Truthfully, in the back of his mind, Obito had always wondered who Kakashi’s first boyfriend had been, what he had been like, _why_ they had broken up. But it was never something he felt like bringing up to Kakashi, their own lives too heavy a burden to leave room for little conversations like that. His curiosity seems to push him forward, however, and Yahiko’s eyes, though light and kind despite his discomfort, seem to hold a story that has yet to graze the surface.

“Not surprising,” Yahiko says, and he absently glances back up at Kakashi’s window above. “What we had wasn’t too serious. Not too… _healthy_ either.”

Obito feels his shoulders stiffen, but before he can voice his sudden unease, Yahiko lets out a deep sigh.

“Not in the way you’re probably thinking. I’m not doing a very good job of explaining myself, am I?” Yahiko releases a soft chuckle. “I don’t know why I find it so difficult to talk to you. Maybe it’s who you are now and who I was in the past…looking at you, I almost see myself. It’s a bit jarring.”

Obito swallows, the feeling burning his throat, his tongue tasting briefly of ash. He doesn’t have anything to lose from listening to Yahiko speak, and from the way he framed it, he may have something important to say. If it regards Kakashi, Obito is willing to at least listen.

“Start from the beginning,” he utters, and a part of him feels that same strange connection, as if the man before him is a glimpse into a future far beyond his current reach. It’s odd, _very_ odd, but it isn’t unwelcome.

Yahiko smiles, though it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “I met Kakashi for the first time as he was leaving the nurse’s office,” he finally says, hints of nostalgia in his tone as he seems to recall that very day, looking almost as if he were living it in that moment. “His lips were swollen and his fists had these bandages all over them. I was already in my third year, bored with pretty much _everything,_ but I heard rumors about the strange first year who always got into fights. When I saw Kakashi, this puny kid with dried blood on his arms, I instantly knew who he was.” Yahiko lets out a soft chuckle. “I remember laughing at the very sight of him. It pissed Kakashi off, to say the least. I thought he was going to start something with me, and I was ready for it, but instead he looked me straight in the eye and said _if you weren’t so cute, you’d be bleeding on the floor right now._ That only made me laugh harder, and I knew that there was something different about this kid. Something that I really liked.”

Obito smiles a little to himself as well, the image alone bringing him back to his own strange encounter with Kakashi. To Kakashi stubbornly insisting that they go to his house together despite trying to kill each other only hours before. Kakashi always did have a little ball of fire in him.

“So I wanted to get to know him better,” Yahiko continues with an absent nod of his head. “One thing led to another and we became more than friends, but as fun as it was, it didn’t last. We _couldn’t_ last.” Yahiko’s smile turns bittersweet. “When my mother died, the tempo between us changed. He became a distraction from the pain I felt, from a life I thought was unjust. And things were changing on Kakashi’s end as well. He…his condition was getting worse, but we didn’t know what was wrong with him, which made it all the more _frustrating._ He told me his parents kept attributing it to things like anxiety, but he knew there had to be something else. So while Kakashi was stressed all the time, I was too caught up in my mother’s death to even bat an eye at him. Things became blurrier and blurrier between us and we were…using each other as distractions. We weren’t anything to each other but.”

“…Where are you going with this?” Obito asks him. It was weird, _really_ weird listening to Kakashi’s ex-boyfriend reminisce like this, even more-so considering the fact that something about their situations felt eerily similar.

Yahiko swallows, giving Obito a sheepish smile. “I heard about the last fight the two of you had. Well, not in detail...but I think I have a pretty good idea because it reminded me an awful lot of the one we had when we were together. It was obvious, we knew we were only using each other, and our last fight had been about just that. He accused me of not caring about him, I accused him of not caring about me, and we were both right and wrong at the same time. Above it all, however, the _real_ problem was that we weren’t listening to each other. We never were.” 

Obito pauses, his thoughts seeming to simmer in the back of his head as he processed Yahiko’s story. “Was that why the two of you broke up?”

Yahiko shakes his head. “No, actually, the real reason we broke up was because I was going to graduate. Kakashi wanted us to stay together, he promised that he would work on his issues, our issues as long as we got to stay together, but I told him we couldn’t do it. Not if we really wanted to get better.” Yahiko purses his lips. “This is my point. I saw it like this – I needed space, and so did he. We couldn’t work on us as a couple because we couldn’t work on ourselves as _individuals._ I…really did like Kakashi. After our big fight I wanted to become a better person and be there for him, but for that I really needed to work on myself. So I broke up with him and left in the hopes that I could someday come back and be a better partner for him.”

Obito remains silent, allowing Yahiko’s words to sink in.

“…Obviously, that isn’t the case anymore,” Yahiko says with a slightly awkward laugh. “I do believe I can be a better friend to him now, but that’s beside the point. In the case of your fight, it sounded like you and Kakashi both have problems that are just…too big to juggle. I understand that the two of you normally communicate, which is already far better than what I had with him…but it’s becoming clearer and clearer that your issues are too… _conflicting.”_

Obito’s heart sinks to his stomach, the reality he’s tried so hard to avoid hanging in the air, snapping what was left of the daydream into pieces. “What do you mean?” Obito finds it in himself to ask anyways, but he already knows the answer. His chest hurts as it attempts to tie all the pieces back together, but the dream continues to fall apart. Reality is far too big of a burden.

Yahiko seems to sense his pain, a sympathetic look in his eyes as he speaks, “Your fight happened because the issues Kakashi was struggling with prevented him from helping you with yours. Just the same, your own issues prevented you from seeing Kakashi’s. As harsh as it sounds, _you’re holding each other back.”_

The image of Kakashi’s white scars reappear, but Obito quickly blurs it all away. _“Bullshit,”_ he grits through clenched teeth. _“Bullshit._ Absolute _bullshit.”_

Yahiko stares at Obito for a moment, eyeing the tension in his fists before releasing a deep sigh. “Kakashi endured a lot to be there for you, did he not? His uncle also told me about the time he secretly stopped taking his meds. You and I both know that while he had the best intentions, it definitely wasn’t the safest idea.”

Obito closes his eyes, unable to deny any of the words, but that didn’t make it any less frustrating. He doesn’t want to hear this, he doesn’t want to believe _any of this._ Reality always was a difficult pill to swallow.

When Obito doesn’t say anything, Yahiko releases a soft chuckle. “Kakashi is a difficult person to forget,” he suddenly says, and Obito glances up at him in alarm. “Someone as resilient as him, I mean. Kakashi isn’t one to go down without a good fight, but he’s still very caring, very compassionate despite the way the world has treated him. They’re all very good qualities, but they also lead to mishaps like his meds.” Yahiko woefully shakes his head. “He’s a little too selfless in that sense. And he also has that terrible habit of blaming himself whenever things go wrong. I don’t know you as a person, Obito,” he pauses, watching as Obito slowly meets his eyes, “but I can tell that two of you are the same. You’re also very resilient, very caring, very compassionate even if the rest of the world looks down on you. These are good things, yes, but they push you ahead of yourself. Rather than thinking about what’s best for you, you constantly sacrifice things in an attempt to make things better for _Kakashi,_ too.”

“Why wouldn’t I?” Obito questions him, his tone a little more hostile than he intended it to be. “I’m sorry, but I _love_ him. I’d do anything for him.”

“It sounds nice on paper, but you’re hurting yourself more by disregarding the fact that your relationship is hindering your progress,” Yahiko disputes, and the words seem to pain him as he speaks. “Kakashi avoided his meds because he didn’t want to lose you. He isn’t getting better because he isn’t focusing on his _own_ health.”

Obito swallows, recalling the night they fought, the same day he found out his parents planned for them to move. He hates this town. He hates it more than anything else in the world, but Obito didn’t want to go. He didn’t want to leave this town, simply because he didn’t want to leave Kakashi. Even if he’d live a better life in the city, even if he’d have a more stable future, even if he could learn to live with his parents, even if Izumi could have a family she deserves, Obito wasn’t willing to take those opportunities, all because he wanted to stay with Kakashi.

The color drains from Obito’s skin as the chill of winter washes over him.

“I’m not telling you this to scare you,” Yahiko softly says, breaking Obito out of his tumultuous thoughts. “I’m telling you this because I had to learn it all myself. The time I spent away from Kakashi actually allowed me to reflect on us, on me with a clearer mind. Besides, Kakashi will be going off to rehab after he’s released from his hospital.” Obito lowers his head, this conversation stripping more and more away from him with every second. Yahiko’s smile is sympathetic, but it does nothing to ease the pain. “You two won’t be able to be together anymore.”

Obito closes his eyes. “We can try.”

Yahiko lets out a soft sigh. “You can try. But you won’t be able to see him very much anymore. And he’ll be focusing most of his time on his own mental health. If Kakashi wants to get better, that’s what’s best for him at this moment. He has to truly focus on himself, and I think your fight was reflective of that. It became the breaking point, proof, for lack of a better term, that your issues clash more than you realize. You expected Kakashi to help shoulder your burden, but how can he shoulder both yours and his? The same thing applies the other way around, too.”

Obito bites his lip, his heart aching as he brevity of Yahiko’s words take their place. _You won’t be able to see him very much anymore_ – couple that with his inevitable move to the city, Kakashi and him may never be able to see each other at all.

They don’t even know how long Kakashi will be staying in rehab.

But still, Obito does not want to let go.

“I know we messed up, but I’m going to be there for him this time,” Obito tries to say, but Yahiko only shakes his head, the remorse in his eyes taking Obito by surprise.

“You need to focus on yourself, too,” Yahiko tells him. “I know you love him a lot, but you can’t use _him_ to run away from your own problems. It’s what I did. It’s what led me nowhere. Besides, Kakashi is leaving whether we want him to or not. We can’t change that no matter how hard we try. I know it’s going to _suck,_ but I wanted you to at least understand this. I think…I think Kakashi does, but you…I can tell how much love you him.” Yahiko gives him a soft, sad smile. “It’ll be hard to let him go.”

Obito stares at Yahiko for a moment before allowing his gaze to drift. He doesn’t _want to,_ he isn’t _willing_ to. _“I’m not going to.”_

Yahiko inhales deeply. “You won’t have a choice.”

-

It’s the first week of December, little bits of holiday decorations beginning to appear in the windows of little stores and the branches of sidewalk trees. Obito stares quietly out his window, the streets below mostly empty save for a few cars and the odd flicker of an old streetlamp.

He’s never celebrated the holidays, but this may be his first and last with Kakashi. Kakashi will stay in the hospital for about one more week before being released. After that…Obito doesn’t even want to _think_ about what will happen after that. He wants to savor every moment he can with Kakashi, cherish every little smile.

Obito glances over at the clock on his wall and heaves out a sigh. Ever since his confrontation with Kakashi’s parents weeks ago and Yahiko only a few days before, a thought that had always been in the back of Obito’s mind was suddenly dragged up onto the surface, placed in a spot in Obito’s head that he can’t avoid. He knew Kakashi’s parents weren’t the most loving based on the stories his boyfriend would tell, but to witness their outrageous disregard for their own son in person was something else entirely. It infuriated Obito to no end, especially considering the fact that they have yet to visit Kakashi _again,_ now that he’s awake.

He can still remember the look on Kakashi’s face when Obito told him that his parents had visited him. Kakashi looked so _surprised,_ then _happy,_ almost as if he hadn’t expected them to come at all. Obito didn’t have the heart to tell him what really happened during their visit, simply holding Kakashi close and listening to him talk about his most recent messages with Sukea.

And then there was Yahiko, his words like a haunting melody in his ears.

_You can’t use him to run away from your problems._

Obito releases a deep sigh, his thoughts wandering to Izumi.

He knows that if he truly wants a good life for Izumi, he’ll have to finally face his problems.

Particularly, he’ll have to face his parents.

Obito gets up from his spot by the window and leaves his room, peering down the hallways into the dining room where the soft sounds of the television can be heard. Obito catches a glimpse of his mother’s lone figure at the table, eating a small dinner by herself as she watches the nightly news. Her eyes look tired, an obvious slump in her posture as she sluggishly sips at her water.

His father is out on a business meeting while Izumi is spending the night at Hana’s. Only Obito and his mother are home at the moment, the apartment completely still and silent save for the news reporter on the screen.

Obito swallows to himself, a small reminder to keep a cool head passing through his mind as he heads towards the table. His mother notices his presence quickly, her eyes flickering from the TV and onto her son.

“Oh, Obito,” she says in greeting, automatically straightening herself up. Obito can see the hints of exhaustion in the creases beneath her eyes, the stray strands of hair that escape her ponytail, but despite it all, she tries her best to maintain her normally cheerful attitude. “Do you want dinner?” She waits for Obito to say something, _anything,_ but when he doesn’t, she gets up and offers the chair next to her, wiping her hands on her jeans as she turns to head for the kitchen. “Hold on, I’ll fix you something light to eat.”

“Mom,” Obito utters, and he watches as she freezes in place, his mother slowly turning to gaze at him with parted lips of surprise. It’s the first time Obito’s ever addressed her directly since she’s returned. Obito knows that he now has her full attention. “I…I’m not hungry, it’s okay,” he finishes quietly, a bit awkward as he moves to take the seat on the opposite end of the table, unable to meet her eyes.

“Oh…okay…” His mother shakily sits back down, curiosity evident in the slight quirk of her brow. Obito finds it difficult to formulate the right words, feeling himself heat up a bit under his mother’s quiet gaze. “How’s Kakashi?” she asks when it’s clear he won’t say anything, and Obito finally glances up at her. She’s attentive despite the weariness in her expression, smiling despite the dryness of her lips.

“He’s…doing better,” Obito answers slowly, unwilling to discuss the details. “He might be discharged this weekend.”

“That’s great!” his mother says with a little clap of her hands. “Oh, I’d love to meet him one day – that is, if that’s okay with you. And him. I know how awkward it is to meet the parents, but, um…” She gives him a sheepish smile. “He sounds like a lovely boy.”

“Uh…” Obito scratches his head, finding that request difficult in more ways than one. “Actually, I wanted to talk to you about something.”

“Oh.” She looks surprised. “What do you need?”

Obito looks at her a bit uncomfortably, shifting in his seat a little to help clear the air of the tension. This is the most he’s spoken to her in a long time. “It’s about Izumi.” He swallows down a lump in his throat. “Or I guess…our _family.”_

His mother simply stares at him, but he can tell by the way she stiffens that this is not what she expected at all. She doesn’t say anything, merely waiting for Obito to continue with bated breath.

Obito takes a deep breath, reminding himself that he needs to do this. For Izumi. For _them._ “Izumi and I grew up without either of you,” he begins, and he doesn’t miss the way his mother flinches at the harsh reminder. “What we had instead of real parents was a pathetic excuse of a father. I took care of both myself and Izumi as best as I could, but obviously it wasn’t enough.”

“Obito, I can’t say I’m sorry enough for what the two of you went through—”

“Then _don’t,”_ Obito stops her before she can go on another one of her long apologies, already tired of hearing the same thing over and over again. “The past won’t change no matter how many times you tell me you’re sorry. We went through hell and back, and apologies aren’t going to suddenly makes things better. It’s meaningless.”

“But…but I want to _fix_ things between us,” his mother says, almost desperately as her eyes fill with longing. “I know I messed up. I know I was irresponsible, and if I could give anything to go back and change the past, I _would._ I’d do everything I could to make sure I never took things that far. I’m trying to change, I want to be a better mother, and I don’t want all this tension in this house anymore.” Her breath trembles as she speaks, sincerity and sorrow lacing every word. “I want us to be happy again, _as a family.”_

Obito stares at her, a part of him wanting to share the sentiment, but a greater part warning him to conserve his hope. “It’ll take a long time before we even come _close_ to becoming a family again,” he utters, gaze falling to the ground. “I don’t like how things are between all of us either, but I didn’t think much of it until recently. I’m so used to having no one around that when you showed up with my...real father, it just felt _wrong._ It still does, I still would much rather live without the two of you pretending to be my parents, but Izumi…” He swallows. “She’s a different story.”

Obito thinks of Kakashi, of Sukea, of how their parents treated them more like objects than actual sons. He thinks of the way Kakashi constantly feared them yet yearned for their approval, how his parents merely threw him aside and disregarded his efforts. Obito then thinks of himself, how he had to throw away his toys and grow up quicker than any kid should, just so he and his sister could survive in a world that left them behind. He thinks of Izumi, and how he doesn’t want her to have to go through more than she already has. He doesn’t want her to go through what any of them have.

He wants her to be a kid again.

“She needs parents, _real_ parents,” Obito says, lifting his head to finally match his mother’s gaze. “Parents who will actually take care of her, who will actually be there for her, who will let her _be a kid._ She’s so young and she’s already been through so much. Izumi isn’t the same little girl she once was, I know, but I don’t want her to grow up completely just yet. I want her to know what it’s like to be in a loving home, I want her to know what it’s like to feel like a kid, I want her to know what it’s like to have _real parents._ And there’s no one else who can really do it except for _you, her mother.”_

The image of Izumi lying in bed, tears staining her cheeks as she reads through their mother’s letters to both him and her passes through Obito’s mind. As he speaks, his breath trembles. “She still loves you. _I know she does_. She’s read every single one of your letters, and she would tell me how much she missed you…how much she wanted you to come back. You’re here now, but it’s different from back then. She loves you, but she doesn’t _trust you_ anymore.” Obito’s smile is bittersweet as he recalls his little sister’s innocent eyes, her smile that Obito always thought rivaled the sun. “I mean, how could she when she couldn’t even remember your face?”

“Oh, Obito,” his mother breathes out, remorse in every word, “I wanted to see the two of you grow up, I really did. I should have fought to bring you two with me, I should have made sure that monster didn’t get to have you. But I was weak…a _coward._ I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness, but I really do love you and Izumi with all my heart. I missed her, I missed you, and I wanted to come back. But it’s so hard to come back to the place like this, a place that’s filled with my mistakes. I was too afraid to face my own children, and I’m sorry. I want to make it up to you and Izumi, I want to be the best mother I can possibly be to make up for all the years I’ve been gone.” Her tone is genuine, eyes wavering with her emotions. “I want to earn back her trust. I want to earn back _your_ trust, too.”

Obito closes his eyes. “…It’s too late for me,” he says, and his mother’s eyes immediately sadden. “I can’t forgive you. I can’t say I ever will. The moment you left I was treated like _dirt,_ but you were too afraid to come back? Afraid or not, a real mother would’ve come back for her children anyways. No, I can’t forgive you, and it’s too late for you to mother me.” Obito opens his eyes. _“But it isn’t for Izumi._ She’s still just a girl, despite it all. She still needs her parents.” He lets out a deep breath. “I know Izumi can find it in herself to forgive you two, but it’ll take time.”

“Obito…” his mother whispers. “Of course. I’ll always be there for her, for you, for _our family_ from now on.”

Obito slowly nods his head. “I…I know you do the things you do with the best intentions, but I think you need to understand that we’re nowhere near a picture-perfect family. Things aren’t going to get better after a few sweet words and homemade dinners. Izumi and I…we don’t trust you because the two of you are treating us like nothing ever happened. You two already weren't there, you two already abandoned us _once,_ but to barely acknowledge the past and try to build a future with us like that? It'll never work. You can't treat Izumi or me like we're the same little kids we were when you left.”

Something seems to change in his mother's eyes, her lips parting in awe. "I...I'm sorry, Obito," she breathes out. "I didn't realize..."

Obito scratches the back of his neck, his words reminiscent of all the scars he has had to endure thus far. To open up like this is new, _different._ But he supposes that if he wants things to change, _truly_ change, he'll have to learn to live with this. He'll have to learn to live with _them._

“I guess…the only way to make up those years to me is to give Izumi the parents…the _life_ she deserves," Obito utters, his gaze falling to the table as he allows his wish to linger in the air. _"That’s all I want.”_ He pushes up to leave, but before he does, he glances over his shoulder and adds, “And mom?"

His mother looks back at him, dazed with thought, but her eyes are still attentive, willing to listen.

Obito swallows. "Please don’t leave us again.” He feels like a child with the words, and maybe he is. Maybe it’s the little boy within him that still dreams of a happy family.

His mother immediately softens, the words seeming to reawaken something within her, something clearer, something stronger. “I _won’t,_ I promise I’m here to stay.” She holds his gaze with hers, her expression filling with a certain emotion Obito can't quite place, but then she's smiling, a gentle, loving smile that takes Obito's breath away. “You...You’re my only son. You’ve done so much and endured so much all these years, and I know it’s not my place to say, but _I’m proud of you."_ Obito watches as her eyes begin to fill with tears, his own lips parting in complete surprise at her words. "I’m a pain, I know, I’m still learning, but you’ve grown up so well even without me, and I can’t be any happier.” She wipes her cheeks with her sleeve, her smile shaky, but the image alone is enough to take Obito back to his childhood, to the smile that shone down on him as he sang a song he learned at school for her, a song about everlasting friends and everlasting families. _“I love you,_ Obito. Thank you for being so strong when I couldn’t be.”

Obito still remembers the song. He used to sing it everyday with her, his mother. The sincerity in her eyes warms something inside of him, and Obito's lips lift into a small smile.

-

Kakashi leans against the ledge of the window, watching quietly as a thin layer of snow slowly begins to cover the ground. Winter this year seems colder than the last. Perhaps it's because he's been spending his nights in the hospital rather than the comforts of his own room, but nonetheless, he can't help but feel like the season is harsher than it normally is. Kakashi shivers a little, hugging his blanket closer to himself as his gaze wanders to the night sky above.

If all goes well with tomorrow’s tests, tonight would be Kakashi’s last night here, actually. Afterwards, he would only get a few days to himself before he’d have to leave for god knows how long to a facility far away. It’s conflicting. Kakashi wants to finally leave the confines of this hospital, but he knows that as soon as he does, the life he's grown to live will end.

He’s spent all his life chasing realities. He’ll have to face one now.

 _“Kakashi,”_ he hears, and he closes his eyes, a shaky breath escaping his lips. “Kakashi, _talk to me.”_

Kakashi shakes his head to himself, a bitter smile lingering on his lips. “I’m sorry, Nagato, but I _can’t..._ not anymore.”

He feels Nagato’s presence as he sits beside him, can practically see his gaze of concern through the darkness. “Kakashi…” Nagato says again, softer this time, sadness evident in his tone. _“Why?”_ It hurts to listen to his voice, it hurts to realize it was never there.

 _“Because you’re not real,”_ Kakashi answers softly, but his words tremble with his breaths, the boy unable to swallow back his emotions. “I can’t keep talking to you if I want to get better.”

“I don’t understand,” Nagato says, sounding so genuinely _lost_ as Kakashi feels his eyes begin to water. “I…I’m here for you, Kakashi, remember? I…I want to help you get better.” The sky shifts as time passes, clouds rolling by but stars disappearing one by one. Kakashi always did find the sky a beautiful place, but it's something he can never reach. He learned this the hard way.

 _Tonight,_ Kakashi thinks, will be the hardest lesson he'll have to get by.

“You can’t,” Kakashi breathes out. “You can’t, Nagato, _you can’t.”_

“I can if you let me,” Nagato pleads, heartbreak in his voice, Kakashi's own chest reflecting it. _“Please,_ Kakashi. I just want to make sure you’re okay. I…I’m here for you, I’m always here for you. I always have been, haven't I?”

Kakashi lets out a soft laugh, smiling mournfully at the dwindling stars outside. “I know you are… _were,_ Nagato. And I thank you for that. Thank you for being a shoulder to lean on all this time.” Kakashi sighs deeply, his tears tasting bittersweet. “I...I’ll never forget our memories together. Despite what you are, you were one of the few people in this world to treat me like something other than some freak. Thank you for being there for me. You’ve helped me a lot, Nagato, you really have, _but this is where we have to stop.”_ Kakashi lets out a shaky breath, finally turning to meet Nagato's own watery eyes. It tears his heart into pieces to see the older man cry. “Where _I_ have to stop.”

“No…no, Kakashi, I-I don’t…I don’t understand, why are you saying these things?” Nagato asks him desperately, the man looking as if his entire world is falling apart. “Why are you thanking me? Why are you talking like this is the last time we’ll ever speak again?”

Kakashi watches as a snowflake settles against the glass, slowly melting into a small droplet of water. "Because it is," he whispers, eyes following the droplet as it falls.

"But Kakashi," Nagato begs, and Kakashi leans his head against the window, _praying_ for this pain to one day go away, "you're my _best friend._ I care about you, I care about you more than anyone else."

"Oh, _Nagato,"_ Kakashi lets out a breath of a laugh, as every little memory of his days in the frozen yogurt shop, serving a customer that was never there fill his aching head, _"it hurts."_

"What does?"

 _“This,”_ Kakashi whispers, his tears blurring his vision as he gazes back at the hallucination once more. “Talking to you. I can’t get better if I keep talking to you, and it hurts so much.”

“Kakashi…”

“Thank you, Nagato, for being the friend I never had,” Kakashi continues quietly, and when Nagato reaches out to touch him, Kakashi closes his eyes. “I will never forget you or everything you’ve ever done for me.”

“Kakashi,” Nagato says again, and Kakashi no longer attempts to hold back his tears, allowing them to fall freely, to trail down his cheeks, to stain his gown without a care in the world because he knows that there is no one else in the room to see him cry. _“Please don’t do this.”_

Kakashi's lips lift into a small, sorrowful smile. _“Goodbye, Nagato,”_ he whispers, and when he opens his eyes, he can see hints of the sun over the horizon.


	22. Chapter 22

When Kakashi returns home for the first time, the first thing he notices is the holiday lights lining the windows of the frozen yogurt shop.

It was autumn the night of Kakashi’s breakdown. He remembers the sight of bare-branched trees from his spot on the rooftop, the withering crisp of brown leaves scraping against the concrete below. Now, instead of brown, the streets are littered with a shimmering white. Not so much white as to completely mask the lingering presence of autumn, but just enough to qualify the change of the seasons, the arrival of the end, the arrival of the impartial winter.

A soft breath escapes Kakashi’s lips as he reenters his room, the still life of all his belongings bringing back the ghost of his past. He can see himself curled up in his beanbag, see the litter of torn paper, smell the scent of the drug that permeated his mind and pulled his demons free. He remembers it all, the days and nights spent crying into his pillow as the walls slowly pushed in on him, the deep thought that he had lost all he’d ever worked for, lost the only person he’d ever loved, straining as his voice cried out to the air for another chance, _just one more chance._

Kakashi supposes that he did end up getting that second chance in the end, though this is far from what he expected. He settles on the edge of his bed and runs his hand across the wrinkled sheets, a quiet sense of acceptance soothing his breaths. It’s all he can do at this point, _accept_ the life that is to come.

Another year is almost over, and Kakashi cannot describe it in any other way besides the _craziest_ year of his life. He remembers when he first moved in to this town, how he expected to live a new life, fresh from the scars of his past. What he got was far from he wanted, but he can’t say this life was worse than the one he once lived.

He made a friend.

He found love.

He remembered what it was like to have hope again.

But all things come to an end. In only a few days, Kakashi will have to start a new life once more.

He can only hope that it will treat him well.

-

Thursday always did feel like the slowest day of the week.

Obito’s gaze wanders over the school field from his spot by the window, the sight of students running around the track despite the freezing weather distracting Obito from the sounds of his teacher’s dull lectures. It’s at moments like this that it feels as if time is close to standing still, seconds just barely dragging by as the world itself daringly taunts Obito’s patience. He checks the time on his phone for the hundredth time that day and decides that _he can’t do this._ He’s tired of waiting – he’s spent far too long simply _waiting._

Obito grabs his things and pushes himself out of his seat, barely noticing the way the rest of the class startles at his sudden movements or the way the teacher stops his lesson to scrutinize him. He quickly makes his way towards the door, ignoring the censorious glances, the little whispers that float through the air, the snickers of those who always anticipate _him_ to cause them trouble.

 _“Uchiha Obito,”_ his teacher immediately calls out to him, and Obito pauses, hand hovering over the doorknob, “where do you think you’re going?”

Obito swallows down a lump in his throat, his fingers clenching together as he contemplates the question. It’s been quite a while since Obito had last stirred up a fuss like this, and by the cautious stares the rest of the room gives him, they’re all expecting the same thing. They expect him to make a scene, to yell at the teacher, to throw his things across the room, anything, _anything_ he probably would have done in the past, but Obito is tired of playing into their preconceived beliefs. That he’s just another student with issues at home, an attention-seeker, a troublemaker, a good-for-nothing _bastard_ with no future ahead. He doesn’t have the energy to endure their stares anymore.

Obito closes his eyes, exhaling through his nose as he spares a glance at the man across the room, over the heads of his classmates, over all of their piercing stares. _“The bathroom,”_ is all he utters before he finally takes his leave, stepping out of the classroom and into the dusty hallways of his school without another word.

The door shuts behind him with a certain element of finality. Obito lets out a low sigh to himself as he pulls his jacket on, his feet dragging behind him as he silently heads down the hall.

There’s only one place he wants to be, one place he _should have been_ this entire time. Kakashi had been discharged the night before, and he is meant to leave for rehab Friday morning, which means Obito only has today and a bit of tomorrow to be with him. Obito doesn’t know why he even bothered to go to school at all. He should have been spending it with Kakashi, but his best conscience had stopped him and told him he shouldn’t skip. It was honestly _stupid,_ but he’s leaving now, so he’ll take whatever time he can get.

The hallways are small, but in that moment, they feel impossibly wide, impossibly _empty._ Obito remembers this specific path very vividly. He and Kakashi often took it together to get to the parking lot, where they’d spend their lunches on the hood of his car, sit around on the curb just outside of campus, or go home together where they’d spend the rest of the day by each other’s sides.

Of course, such things only happened on their better days. More often than not, Obito would walk these halls alone.

Something about it all feels bittersweet. His fingers graze over the windowsill as he passes, memories of watching Kakashi’s back as he followed him through the school filling his head. _What he would give to go back to simpler days._ Today and those days feel so far apart. So much has happened in so little time.

Obito stops when he comes face to face with the doors to the back lot. The bus stop is on the other side of the school, but Obito didn’t want to risk running into the principal at the front. For a moment, he remembers his many confrontations with the very man, remembers the carelessness Obito treated every day, every action. Any time Obito spent at school had been spent in the principal’s office, reprimand after reprimand for his abhorrent behavior.

Time truly has changed him.

Or perhaps _someone_ did.

He tugs his jacket closer and braces himself for the chill of the winter, but just as Obito’s about to step outside, he’s stopped by the familiar sound of the class president’s voice echoing down the walls of the hallway.

“Hey, _dropout.”_

Obito rolls his eyes to himself, gazing over his shoulder in time to watch Genma leisurely saunter over.

“…Or at least that’s what you’ll become if you step through those doors,” Genma finishes, hands in his pockets as he regards Obito with his signature smug smile. “Don’t tell me you’re going to break your perfect attendance now?”

Obito stares at Genma for a moment, allowing his eyes to trail up and down his freshly ironed uniform before releasing a scoff at the platitude of this confrontation. “If you really think I’m going to stay here when Kakashi is finally home from the hospital, then you don’t deserve your class rank.”

Genma’s eyebrows rise in interest. “Huh,” he says with a click of his tongue. “So the brat’s finally back?”

Obito’s gaze falls at the words, his lips pursing slightly as he considers his answer. “Not for long,” he finally utters, his tongue craving the taste of smoke once more. He clenches and unclenches his fingers, stuffing his hands into his pockets and suppressing the temptations.

“Right…” Genma murmurs, a careful look in his eyes as he watches Obito’s stiffened actions. “He’s going to rehab, isn’t he?” Genma questions rather bluntly, and despite Obito flinching, the latter nods. “How long?”

“…For as long as he needs,” as soon as the words leave Obito’s lips, they linger in the air, remnants of the unspoken not going unnoticed by Genma.

There’s silence for a few moments as Genma continues to watch Obito under his careful gaze, the class president looking as if he wanted to offer Obito… _something._ Obito returns his stare with a frown of his own, and Genma lets out a breath of a laugh, moving to lean against the wall beside them. “You know, when I first saw Kakashi, I wrote him off as another town freak,” Genma finally says, an oddly fond look in his eyes as he reflects on the intriguing student. “Didn’t expect him to be such a genuine guy. Even though he always was a little shady…something about him was like a breath of fresh air.”

Obito ponders the comment, his own gaze falling to the ground as he remembers the nights he’s spent with Kakashi on the roof, exchanging whispers they’d only ever share with each other. “He’s the type of person who actually cares,” he finds himself saying as the images gradually disappear, turning to meet Genma’s eyes once more. “It’s something you don’t really expect from anyone nowadays.”

Genma’s lips lift into a small smile. “I guess you’re right. It’s not every day you meet someone who actually gives a crap about others…You know, Kakashi always did look after you. At least when he could, he did,” Genma suddenly mentions, and Obito glances back at him in interest. “The few times I ever spoke to him alone, he’d always ask about you. That month or so you disappeared after that incident with your dad, Kakashi was always looking for you. And when you came back to school, he stuck to you like glue, trying his best to keep you in check. He cares about you a lot. I always thought it was kind of sweet.”

Obito smiles a little to himself despite the slight embarrassment that coats his cheeks, but traces of sadness linger in his eyes. “Kakashi always thought he wasn’t doing enough for me. He never gives himself enough credit for what he’s done for us.”

“Yeah, I mean, he turned you into a half-decent person. He deserves an award,” Genma quips, ignoring the middle finger Obito sends him. Silence passes for a few moments more before Genma glances back at Obito, his eyes careful as he slowly asks, “What are you going to do after he leaves?”

Obito inhales deeply, the question seeming to strike deeper than either had intended. It’s the very question that has been on his mind for weeks now, months almost. Not a day goes by that he doesn’t think about it, but only _now_ does he finally have an answer to it.

 _“Move to Tokyo,”_ Obito says, and the words seem to echo through the hallways despite his low tone. “My parents can’t postpone the move any longer. I don’t know when they plan on getting married, but I do know that we’ll be moving anyways, and I’ll be out of this shithole in just a couple of weeks.” It’s the first time he’s voiced the plans out loud. Something about it finally leaving his lips fills him with a strange feeling of absolution.

Genma gives him a look of surprise. “Looks like bigger and better things are waiting for you,” he says, almost as if impressed by the revelation.

Obito only rolls his eyes, adjusting the collar on his jacket to properly cover his neck. As promising as it is, Obito knows from experience that things are never what they seem. “That’s _one_ way to look at it.”

His words seem to peel another layer away, and the more recent question that has been haunting Obito’s mind comes gradually surfaces. Genma allows another second to pass in silence before finally asking, “What’s going to happen between you and Kakashi?”

 _It’s almost unfair,_ Obito thinks, how easy it is to ask a question. Answers never come without difficulty, especially the ones that are uncertain.

Obito breathes out a sigh, cracking his head to the side to relieve himself of some of the tension in his neck. “That’s something we’re going to have to figure out tonight,” he answers, and from the look in his eyes, Genma can tell he does not want to elaborate on the matter further. “Are we done here?” Obito asks as stares back at Genma, expression void of any tangible emotion.

Genma regards the look with a pensive one of his own before slowly shaking his head. Obito looks as if he wants to argue, but Genma cuts him off. “Need a ride?” he offers much to Obito’s surprise, and Genma watches as his eyes narrow in suspicion. 

“Oh?” Obito questions slowly. “Is the class president _also_ skipping?”

“No, but he is helping you skip,” Genma replies with a wry grin. He pulls his keys out of his pockets, tossing it towards Obito with a simple flick of his wrist. Obito catches them with a raised eyebrow, staring down at the rather interesting assortment of accessories and keys on the ring. “Don’t crash it or lose it,” Genma continues, breaking Obito out of his daze, “I’ll be staying after school for a while, but once I’m out, I’ll head to the frozen yogurt shop for my keys back. Leave them somewhere for me if you don’t plan on leaving with me later.”

Obito closes his fist over the keys, staring back at Genma carefully, as if unsure. “You’re trusting me with your _car?”_

Genma only shrugs, though he himself looks like he can’t believe the situation either. “What can I say? I’m feeling generous today. Consider it an advanced parting gift from your one and only friend.”

Obito scoffs but smiles nonetheless, tossing the keys up and catching them again with one hand, grip firm and secure. “I’ll leave the keys with Kakashi’s uncle. You can get them back from him,” he says, a bit distracted as his mind momentarily wanders to Kakashi. His fingers itch with a longing to hold his boyfriend once more, and Obito shifts in place, eager to take Genma’s car and make that longing a reality.

Genma nods his head in quiet understanding, noticing Obito’s sudden restlessness with a slight smile of amusement. “I can’t believe I’m trusting the idiot who’s broken into my house countless times with my damn car, but I guess crazier things have happened here.” He then pauses, that reflective look returning to his eyes. “I’ll miss the freak,” Genma muses, catching Obito’s questioning gaze. “He was probably the most interesting person to ever come to this school. Scratch that. This _town.”_

The air seems to slowly settle around them. Something about Genma’s words strike Obito with the finality of these moments.

Obito’s lips lift into a thin smile, words tasting bittersweet as he speaks, “This place is going to be boring without me and him around.” Again, his words seem to echo.

Genma silently stares back at Obito, and for a moment, the years they’ve spent growing up together seem to play before them. The two of them have lived very different lives, that’s for sure, but something about this goodbye feels oddly… _real._ They’ll see each other again before Obito actually does leave the town for good, but this conversation right here feels like their last.

Many things remain unspoken between them, but Genma decides to leave it that way. They never did like to speak for too long. That’s just how things have always been between them.

He lets out a snort. “They’ll find someone new to shit on eventually, don’t worry,” Genma utters, stepping forward and giving Obito a comforting pat on the shoulder. A ghost of a smile lingers on his lips. “Good luck out there, dropout.”

Obito feels his own lips lift with the words.

Maybe he _will_ miss Shiranui Genma.

“Thank you, class president.”

-

Obito parks Genma’s car behind the frozen yogurt shop, glancing up at Kakashi’s window with careful eyes. The gnome no longer sits on the windowsill, the absence of its ever present smile that greeted Obito on each of his visits somehow filling Obito with a strange sense of loneliness. He supposes that the gnome did more harm than it ever did good, but without it there, the fact that Kakashi will be leaving soon truly sinks in on Obito’s shoulders.

Genma’s car locks and Obito makes his way around the shop. He spots Kakashi’s uncle through the frosted windows, the man looking rather deep in thought as he scrubs away at the counter. The bells above the door jingle to announce Obito’s arrival, and Obito gives a small wave to Kakashi’s uncle, the latter returning the greeting with a kind smile.

“He’s up on the roof,” Kakashi’s uncle supplies, pausing in his cleaning to gesture above. “Make sure you two come back in before it’s dark. Kakashi tends to forget how cold it really is when he gets lost in his thoughts up there.”

Obito raises an eyebrow as he approaches the counter. “Speaking from experience?”

“Yeah,” Kakashi’s uncle hums. “He used to get sick all the time as a kid because of how long he’d stay up there, especially during the winter. If he doesn’t want to come back inside, at least bring him an extra jacket or something. I’d rather have him not come down with the cold during his last days here.”

Obito nods his head in understanding before handing Kakashi’s uncle the keys to Genma’s car. After a quick explanation of the situation with the keys, Obito bows his head to the older man and finally takes for the stairs in the back. His steps are brisk as he climbs the stairwell, careful to stop by the apartment and grab a couple of extra blankets as Kakashi’s uncle had advised.

Obito pauses for a moment, his thoughts drifting towards the older man as it dawns on him that this will be one of the last times he’ll ever see _him_ again, too. It brings an ache to Obito’s chest, he had grown to become rather fond of the man, like he had been Obito’s uncle, too. He gave Obito a job, food, advice, and cared for him whenever he could. During the days of Kakashi’s coma, it was Kakashi’s uncle who went out of his way to tell Obito of Kakashi’s status. He was easy to talk to and didn’t judge Obito despite the way the rest of the town did. Obito never did thank Kakashi’s uncle for everything he’s done for him. He makes a mental note to do so before he finally moves to the city.

With a nod of his head, Obito leaves the apartment and heads for the rooftop, folded blankets under one arm as the other reaches to push the door open. Instantly, the chill of the winter washes over his skin, the rather dim stairwell coloring with the light of the afternoon. Obito wastes no time as he steps outside, allowing the heavy door to shut behind him as his gaze falls onto the figure on the other end of the roof, standing over the rusty railing.

In a blink, Obito is taken back to the first time he had been up here, the first time Kakashi brought him up to see the view. He remembers the lights of the streets below them, the sight of life across the horizon as the sun sunk to the ground.

Another blink, and he’s back in the present, to the same Kakashi that opened his eyes that day, currently watching over the murmur of life down below, quiet as the winter breeze brushes through his soft hair. The sight alone is enough to leave Obito breathless. It is in that moment that Kakashi finally notices Obito’s presence, glancing over his shoulder and meeting Obito’s eyes in slight surprise. A soft smile lifts his lips, and Obito feels himself smile in return.

“I see you’re skipping again,” Kakashi greets him, a teasing look in his creased eyes. “Silly, Obito. Do you ever learn?”

Obito lets out a snort, shaking his head a little to himself as he strolls over to where Kakashi stands, his eyes never leaving Kakashi’s little smile. “It doesn’t really matter anymore,” he says after a moment, stopping only a few feet away from the other boy. “I won’t be a student at that school for much longer, anyways.”

“Oh?” Kakashi tilts his head, a contemplative look on his face as he turns to face Obito fully. “And why is that? Did you finally get expelled? Or are you actually moving?” His words have a hint of playfulness in them, but Obito can see the genuine curiosity in Kakashi’s eyes. A part of him looks hopeful, too.

Obito lifts his shoulders in a noncommittal shrug. The gesture alone is enough for Kakashi to understand his answer, and a small smile slowly stretches across his lips, eyes soft as he regards Obito warmly.

“I’m glad,” is all Kakashi says before he turns back towards the railing, fingers gently grasping the rusting metal.

The two decide to leave that conversation there, Obito finally moving and dropping the blankets to the side, taking a step forward and joining Kakashi by the ledge. He slowly slinks his arms around Kakashi’s waist, pulling Kakashi closer and resting his chin on his shoulder. The two fall into a comfortable silence, simply basking in each other’s presence as they watch the streets below them, taking in the expanse of the world as the breeze bathes them with shivers.

Obito presses a light kiss against Kakashi’s neck. “It’s cold out here,” he murmurs, “and all you’re wearing is this hoodie?”

Kakashi only shrugs, his fingers slowly finding Obito’s around him. “I have bigger things on my mind,” he whispers, relaxing back against his boyfriend’s hold with a soft sigh.

Obito releases a low hum, his lips brushing against Kakashi’s skin as he speaks, “Is that why you like to come up here? To think about _bigger things?”_

Kakashi is quiet for a moment, seemingly lost in thought as his eyes trail over the grid of streets below. “The roof always was the place I liked to go to to clear my head. Something about being up here makes me feel like…like the world is _mine._ Like _I_ can be the one in control for once…” He swallows. “Plus, I’ve had a lot of good memories up here with you, too,” he adds as he squeezes Obito’s hands. “It only felt right to spend my last days in this town up here on this roof.”

“You’re not going to stay up here the entire time, are you?”

“No, though I wish I could,” Kakashi answers, moving to pick up the blankets Obito had discarded on the ground. “Help me set this up, I want to watch the sun set with you.”

“The sun won’t set for another hour or so, you know,” Obito comments as he takes a blanket, only watching as Kakashi spreads the other by their feet.

Kakashi gives him a slightly annoyed look as he sinks onto the ground, tugging at the hem of Obito’s jacket to get him to sit down, too. Obito acquiesces with a light laugh, haphazardly setting his blanket to the side as he unceremoniously plops onto the space next to Kakashi, a slight grin on his lips.

 _“Useless idiot,”_ Kakashi utters. “I guess we’ll be out here for another hour or so, then.” He then hugs his knees to his chest, turning to gaze over the edge of the roof once more. Kakashi lets out a wistful sigh. “Time always seems to go faster when you don’t want it to...”

Obito stares at Kakashi for a moment before he moves to lie back against their blanket, hands sliding behind his head as his eyes travel to the sky above. “Hard to believe it’s already been a year.”

Kakashi bites his lip, squinting through a gust of wind. “Hard to believe it’s _only_ been a year.”

Obito swallows, silent as the weight of Kakashi’s words slowly sinks onto his shoulders. “A lot has happened, huh?” he says after a moment, glancing over at Kakashi with a slight smile, but Kakashi only stares back at him, an unreadable look in his eyes.

“Do you…do you remember that day we first fought?” Kakashi suddenly asks, a bit sheepish as he leans his chin on his knees. “The one in the classroom before school, I mean. A little while after we became friends.”

Obito quirks his eyebrow as he tries to recall that day, the memories slowly piecing together bit by bit. “Yeah…” he slowly says, watching as Kakashi shifts to lie down next to him. “You kissed me out of nowhere in that dingy school bathroom. The scent of urine made it extra romantic.” Kakashi lets out a huff, smacking Obito’s shoulder with a flustered pout. Obito only laughs, rubbing his shoulder as he asks, “What about it?”

“Do you have to mention that part every time? It’s embarrassing,” Kakashi groans, glaring back at Obito’s cheeky grin. “You should be grateful I even kissed you, Mr. _I-was-too-scared-to-try.”_

Obito feels his own cheeks flush a little with the jab, and he lets out an awkward cough. “Uh, yeah, I never said that.”

“Oh, really?” Kakashi mocks, a teasing glint in his eyes as he pokes at Obito’s chest. “Oh, _Kakashi!_ Ever since the day we met, _oh,_ how I’ve wanted to kiss you. But _alas,_ I hadn’t the balls to try!”

“Well, I definitely didn’t say it like _that,”_ Obito says, rolling his eyes as Kakashi laughs. “What about it anyways?”

Kakashi gradually sobers up, his eyes glistening a little as he rolls onto his side, facing Obito with a small smile. “I was just thinking that that day could have gone _very_ differently, but it didn’t. And I’m…I guess I’m just glad it went the way it did.”

Obito frowns a little, staring back into Kakashi’s eyes in mild confusion. “What do you mean?”

“I mean…I…don’t think I ever thanked you for what you said that day…or for what you did,” Kakashi says sincerely, his voice barely above a whisper. “Most of my old… _friends,_ I guess, ended up walking out on me. I know they weren’t really my friends, but they were the closest thing I had to decent company at my old place. But as soon as the news broke out that I had some sort of psychotic disorder that no one really knew anything about, they all just… _left._ Suddenly, to all of them, I was too dangerous…too _different.”_ Kakashi lets out a soft sigh, staring deeply into Obito’s eyes as he speaks, _“But you didn’t do that._ I was afraid of telling you the truth because I thought I would lose another friend, and I stupidly pushed you away because of that fear. I already had that terrible break down at the party, and I knew I was getting worse without explanation. You could have walked out on me…you could have left me behind and written me off as a freak like the rest of them, _but you didn’t.”_

Obito’s eyes soften, his heart aching a little at the mention of Kakashi’s old friends, the reminder of all the people who had neglected Kakashi breaking his heart. “You were really the only friend I had,” Obito says after a moment, reaching out and carefully taking Kakashi’s hand in his. “I wouldn’t have given up on you so easily. I _didn’t_ want to give up on you. You were all I really had.”

Kakashi’s lips lift into a grateful smile, his grip on Obito’s hand tightening ever so slightly. “I think…what I always liked about you was the way you treated me. You never asked me for crap like drugs like my old friends did. The closest person I had to a real friend was _Yahiko_ …and _Nagato_ …but…we both know how those turned out.” Kakashi’s voice drifts away for a moment, the mentioned names seeming to strike a deep chord within his heart. He swallows down the slight ache in his chest before meeting Obito’s unwavering gaze once more, the undivided stare taking his breath away.

Things fall silent for a moment, the two merely staring at each other, fingers intertwined in the small space between them. It’s dizzying almost, how close they really are, the cold climate around them forgotten as they share their breaths, time slowly slipping away as the sky above gradually dims. Every door seems to open in their small world, and Kakashi feels his body relax under Obito’s stare, every little insecurity, every little _doubt_ dispersing with the wind.

 _“But you were different,”_ Kakashi whispers, continuing his reflection, the words conveying the beat of his heart. “You always looked like you actually _liked_ talking to me. Like you actually _wanted_ to be around me. Then even after you found out the truth, _you still treated me the same way._ You didn’t act like you were afraid of me, you didn’t treat me like I was about to burst at any moment, and you didn’t pity me every minute of the day. I just…” Kakashi’s breath hitches in his throat, the telltale burn in his eyes shaking his words. _“Thank you,_ Obito. Thank you for not giving up on me.” He sniffs a bit, letting out a small laugh. “Even until now, even after _everything,_ you’re still here. It’s amazing…what did I ever do to deserve someone as true as you?”

Obito exhales a shaky breath of his own, and he brings Kakashi’s hand to his lips, pressing a soft kiss against his fingertips. “I can’t believe you’re saying that to _me,”_ Obito says, closing his eyes as he holds Kakashi’s hand against his cheek, the soft feeling soothing his aching heart. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, Kakashi. If anyone is lucky, it’s me. I don’t deserve you. You’re thanking me for never giving up on you, but you never gave up on me _either._ This summer, after everything that happened, _you were still there._ No one has ever cared about me nearly as much as you.” Obito opens his eyes, watching as a tear slips from Kakashi’s, his own beginning to feel the same heat. _“Staying by your side was the best decision I ever made.”_

Kakashi looks down, a small, reflective smile on his lips despite the teardrop that clings to his cheek. “We’ve been through a lot together, haven’t we?” he quietly asks, glancing back up at Obito with the sweetest look in his eyes. “And it’s only been a year.”

“Both the best and worst year of my life, honestly,” Obito utters, smiling when Kakashi releases a soft chuckle of agreement. “Well, if there’s anyone I’d travel through hell and back with, it would be with you.”

“I think we just did,” Kakashi says with another laugh. “How does it feel to be on the other side?”

“Not much different,” Obito admits after a moment, his hold on Kakashi’s hand tightening. “Everything still hurts like a bitch, but for different reasons now.”

Kakashi’s gaze falls once more, a sad smile lingering on his lips. “Kind of bittersweet that the only break we ever got together is right at the end, huh?” Kakashi catches the slight grimace in Obito’s eyes, and he swallows down a lump in his throat, sighing softly when he realizes what he had just said. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have brought that up like that.”

“It’s alright,” Obito murmurs, trying his best to suppress the anxiety that stirs within him. “You’re leaving tomorrow morning, right?” Kakashi only nods his head with downcast eyes. Obito gives him a small smile, moving closer to Kakashi and kissing his hand once more. “Then I’ll stay right by your side until then.”

Kakashi slowly returns his smile, his eyes turning into little crescents as he lets out a soft laugh. “I guess I won’t be getting any sleep tonight.”

Obito raises his eyebrows at that statement. “Oh? What are you insinuating?”

Kakashi feels himself flush. “I didn’t mean it like _that._ I just want to spend as much time with you as possible,” he utters, slightly embarrassed as he looks away. “Though…I wouldn’t mind,” he adds after a moment, gazing back at Obito with a slight curl in his lips.

Obito lets out a snort of amusement as Kakashi slips his leg over his hips, straddling him with a mischievous look in his eyes.

“Cute,” Obito teases as Kakashi runs his hands over his chest. His own fingers trail to Kakashi’s lower back, slipping beneath his hoodie and teasing the soft skin. “I missed this,” Obito murmurs beneath his breath as Kakashi leans over him, their eyes meeting in a swift second. “I missed _you.”_

Kakashi only gives him another smile in response, taking Obito’s face between his hands and leaning down, connecting their lips in a slow and sensual manner. Obito immediately kisses him back, his arms encircling Kakashi’s waist and pulling him flush against his body. Kakashi’s fingers trail to Obito’s hair, slipping between the dark locks as he relaxes in Obito’s hold. He parts his lips, savoring Obito’s taste with a soft sigh of content before a gust of wind stiffens his skin, a shiver sucking his breath away.

Kakashi pulls away with a soft gasp, cheeks peppered with pink as he rubs his hands over his own arms. _“Christ,_ it’s cold out here,” he breathes out, shivering as he bites his lip in an attempt to resist the chill of the air around them.

Obito stares up at Kakashi, a bit dumbfounded before he lets out an amused laugh. “Should we go back inside, then?” he suggests, watching as Kakashi contemplates the question. “It’s _nice and warm_ in there.”

Kakashi rolls his lip between his teeth before shaking his head. “I like it out here with you,” he explains when Obito raises an eyebrow at him. “Even if it’s cold…it feels like the world is _ours_ up here.”

Obito lets out a dramatic sigh but smiles at the words nonetheless, moving to unzip his jacket. “Come here,” he murmurs, pulling Kakashi onto his chest and sharing the heat from his parka, wrapping his arms tightly around his boyfriend’s shivering frame. “What a baby,” he says after a moment, Kakashi shifting to settle against his shoulder.

“Shut up,” Kakashi utters, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt as he breathes in Obito’s scent. “Your jacket smells like shit.”

Obito snorts. “That’s the smell of _warmth,_ baby. Take it or leave it.” 

“I’ll leave it, then,” Kakashi says without hesitation, rolling out of Obito’s hold and reaching for the other blanket. He pulls the comforter over his shoulders, breathing out an exaggerated sigh of satisfaction. “This is _much_ better. I don’t need you _or_ your stupid jacket.”

Obito slowly sits up, staring back at Kakashi with a slight smirk. “Fine. I guess I’ll just go back inside—”

“No,” Kakashi quickly says, scooting back over and plopping back onto the blanket by Obito’s side. “You’re staying out here with me so we can watch the sunset together, asshole.”

“I thought you didn’t _need_ me,” Obito quips, mocking Kakashi’s voice as Kakashi rests his head on his shoulder.

“I don’t. I just need someone to lean on while I wait for the sun to set,” Kakashi says with a simple shrug of his shoulders, and Obito playfully rolls his eyes. “You work well enough.”

“So I’m just a glorified headrest?” Obito questions with a slight nudge against Kakashi’s side. “Hey, I thought my jacket smelled like shit,” he teasingly says when he notices Kakashi nuzzling his nose against his neck.

“It does,” Kakashi utters, voice muffled against Obito’s skin, “and so do you.” He then lets out a soft sigh, suddenly wrapping his arms around Obito’s neck and pressing a soft kiss right beneath his ear. _“I love you,”_ Kakashi breathes out, almost a whine as he continues to press little kisses against Obito’s cheek. “I love you, and I…I’m going to miss you so much…”

Obito’s heart skips a beat, and he quickly pulls Kakashi closer, listening as soft, hiccupped sobs slowly escaped the boy’s lips. “Hey, where is this coming from?” Obito whispers, concern evident in his tone as he gently hushes Kakashi’s quiet cries. “My little crybaby…”

Kakashi lets out a breath of a laugh, shoulders trembling as he struggles to suppress his tears. “I really am, aren’t I? God, it’s just… _god,_ that damn smell. You always smelled like that from smoking and whatnot and it’s just…as terrible as it smells, I’m going to miss it.” Kakashi shakes his head, hiding his face in Obito’s shoulder once more. “I’m going to miss _you._ I’m going to miss you _so fucking much.”_

Obito immediately melts with the confession, his hands moving to rub soothing circles onto Kakashi’s back. “Kakashi…don’t think about that kind of stuff right now—”

“I-I can’t help it,” Kakashi whimpers, sniffing back his sobs as Obito continues to soothe him. “I-I don’t know how long I’ll be gone…I-I don’t know how long we’ll be separated and just…we’ve been together through so, so much together and through it all you smelled like _that,_ and…it’s just so _you_ …I’m going to miss you so much it _hurts._ I just know that any time I see someone smoke I’m just going to think about _your_ dumbass and cry all over again – ugh, Obito, I love you so much. _I don’t want to go._ I don’t want to go _anywhere_ if you’re not there, too.”

“Kakashi,” Obito breathes out, feeling water prickle at the corners of his own eyes as he shifts, moving to gently grasp Kakashi’s chin, forcing his boyfriend to meet his gaze. He feels himself soften as he stares into Kakashi’s teary eyes, a bittersweet smile stretching his lips. “God, I wish I could just take you and run away from all of this. You’re _everything_ to me, and to hear you say those things… _fuck,_ I don’t know how I’m going to live without you anymore.”

Kakashi breath trembles as he exhales, tears slipping freely from his lashes as he gazes back at Obito. “I’m so _scared,_ Obito,” he whispers, his voice so small that Obito feels his heart fall apart. _“I don’t want to be alone again._ I had to do it before, but I can’t do it again.” He shakes his head. “Not after you.”

“Oh, _god,_ Kakashi,” Obito says again, chuckling a little to himself as he struggles to keep his tears at bay. _“I’m scared, too,”_ he finally admits, moving to pull Kakashi into his arms. “You were all I had for such a long time…How am I going to let you go after this?”

Kakashi shakes his head again, almost as if attempting to smudge away every insecurity with the action. He wraps his arms around Obito’s neck and kisses him quickly. _“I don’t want this day to end,”_ he whispers when he pulls away, vision blurred by his tears as he clings onto Obito’s shoulders. “I wish I could stay up here with you, forever.”

Obito breathes in deeply, lifting his hand and tenderly tracing the tears on Kakashi’s cheeks away. He looks for something to say, _anything_ to say, and slowly, a small smile lifts Obito’s lips, nostalgia dictating the beat of his heart as he holds Kakashi’s gaze with his. “You know…you said the same thing to me the night you first told me you loved me,” Obito softly says, entranced by Kakashi’s features, memorizing every little detail under the warm light of the setting sun. The words leave his lips as naturally as their fingers meld together. “I thought you looked so damn _beautiful_ that night…your sleepy eyes, your little smile…I know I’ve never told you this, and really, it’s because I’m terrible with words, but you really are the most beautiful thing I have ever seen. And every time I’m with you, I always pity the world because they don’t see it.” Obito brushes Kakashi’s hair behind his ear, eyes softening as Kakashi lets out another shaky exhale. _“They don’t see you.”_

Kakashi stares back at him, enamored for a few seconds before he lets out a breathless laugh, placing his forehead against Obito’s. Their eyes lock together despite the feather of space between them. “You’ve never called me that before…and here I was thinking you thought I was ugly this entire time.” He leans forward again, gently taking Obito’s lips with his. “I should say the same thing about you,” he confesses when they part. “That night…I finally realized how much you meant to me. It was the first time you ever cried in front of me, but despite the way it hurt to see, the fact that you were willing to open up to me like that…you took my damn breath away.”

“You got all of that from me crying?” Obito asks with a bashful laugh, a bit embarrassed as he recalls the memory.

“Well, yeah,” Kakashi answers with a small smile. “Most people talk as if you don’t care about anything or anyone, but that night made me realize how _wrong_ they all are. You started crying as soon as you started talking about your sister…and then you pleaded with me to fix things with my brother. Everything about that night…from the way you saved me from my family, to that field you took me to, to all the words you said…they all showed me how much you really did care. About me, about your family…” Kakashi bites his lip, staring deeply into Obito’s eyes. “It’s hard for me in more ways than one to differentiate between what is real and what isn’t, but…I _know you’re real,_ Obito. Everything about you is real, _sincere,_ from your love for your sister, your loyalty, to your dreams of being _free_ …They’re all so real, and I’m _so_ happy you exist, that you really are _real_ and that I was lucky enough to have met _you,_ to have loved you, to have spent the craziest year of my life with you. Sure, we’ve had our ups and downs, but so many times you made me feel like I was more than my disorder, more than my past and my mistakes. _Obito…”_ Kakashi threads his fingers through Obito’s hair, gently brushing their lips together once more with a faint smile, “…you made me feel like _me.”_

Obito stares back at Kakashi under the haze of the sunset, mesmerized by the mere sight. His skin seems to glow with the dust of galaxies, his irises catching the embers of shooting stars. When he looks into Kakashi’s eyes, a whole world seems to look back at him, and Obito is taken back to the day they first met, the day they first kissed, the day they first made love, the day they first smiled, together. He sees Kakashi sitting on that beanbag, knees to his chest as he laughs at nothing in particular through a swirl of white smoke, the breeze on the rooftop as they gazed over the skyline, a scent drifting between them that whispered of fate.

He quickly comes to realize that his world had been a _very_ dark place for a very long time. He was lost, blinded by cynicism, unable to find solace in a place where his hopes had been crushed over and over again. But it was Kakashi who forced a candle into his hands, lighting up his world with a fire that matched the ferocity of his dreams, _their_ dreams. It was with that little light that they lit up a new world meant only for them. People like them. A place where they can be together.

A place that Obito grew to call his home.

“We really are one in the same,” Obito utters, lost in a trance of wonder as he gazes into Kakashi’s eyes. “You made me feel like I actually mattered, Kakashi. Like I actually had a future worth looking forward to, like…like there was a chance for a lowlife like me.”

“Oh, Obito…” Kakashi wipes a tear away, giving Obito a smile that takes his breath away. “If anyone deserves a chance, it’s _you._ You are more deserving than any other person on this damn earth. And I…” he hesitates for a moment, chewing on his lip as he peeks sheepishly up at Obito through his dampened lashes, “…I really do believe you’re finally getting that chance.”

Obito’s gaze falls with the implications, but slowly, a small, almost _hopeful_ smile lifts his lips. “If you believe that, then I’ll believe it, too.”

The sky dims and Obito blinks as a snowflake drifts to the ground in his peripherals. It takes him a moment to notice the slow flurry around them, and he swallows, almost mesmerized by the surreal sight. He gazes back at Kakashi, watching as a snowflake sticks to his hair and gradually dissolves, Obito unable to do anything but smile at the precious sight.

 _Kakashi,_ he thinks, truly is a gift. From the heavens, from fate, from _chance_ itself, Kakashi is the gift that opened Obito’s heart to the true wonders of life.

“It’s snowing,” Obito finds himself saying, a bit distracted by the warmth in Kakashi’s glistening eyes.

Kakashi snivels, a little laugh escaping his lips as he takes a quick glance around the roof. “So it is.” He sighs softly, wiping away the last of his tears and giving Obito an endearing smile. “Should we go back inside, then?”

Obito shakes his head, unable to look away from Kakashi’s tearstained expression, something about him seeming so _ethereal._ “The sun hasn’t set yet,” he mindlessly says, “and I don’t want this moment to end.”

Kakashi immediately melts with the words, cheeks warming despite the bits of snow that touches his skin. “Obito…”

Obito smiles back, teary-eyed himself as he breathes out a shaky sigh. “There…there are a _thousand_ things I want to say and a _million_ more moments I wish I could spend with you. But I’ve always been shit with words and we only have _tonight_ …so…so I’ll only say what counts.” Obito takes in a deep breath, holding Kakashi’s eyes with his own, sincerity conveyed in his unwavering irises. _“I love you,”_ he says, “I’m _so fucking in love with you,_ and I’ll miss you every second we’re apart. If I could spend the rest of my life telling you just that, I would…but we only have tonight…” Obito swallows, his gaze drifting up to the sky for just a moment, vision blurry as his heart aches painfully in his chest at the limitations of time. He watches as snow travels lightly through the air, smiling despite the little shivers that run down his spine. The words leave his lips like a prayer, “It’s almost scary to think, but… _I don’t think I’ll ever love anyone as much as I love you.”_

Kakashi’s eyes waver, and he fists Obito’s collar, his other hand clutching desperately to the cloth over his own chest. Obito stares back at him, a bit stunned by his actions, and Kakashi finds that he can’t hold himself back any longer.

Not now, not as time ticks against them.

 _“Tonight is ours,”_ Kakashi whispers breathlessly, heart beating fiercely against his fingertips as his words dance across the small space between their lips, _“so kiss me like you mean it, you coward.”_

Obito barely lets another breath escape their lips before he grasps Kakashi’s nape and kisses him passionately, rivaling the heat of the setting sun. Every beat of his heart is echoed by Kakashi’s, their blood running through their skin and warming their bodies with pure love and inimitable lust.

Obito leans his weight forward, Kakashi collapsing onto the blankets with a sharp gasp. Obito immediately takes that chance to ravish his parted lips, hands trailing beneath Kakashi’s hoodie, mapping every graze and committing every breathless taste to his memory. His touches expose Kakashi’s skin to the chill of the winter, and Kakashi lets out a quiet whine, tugging on the sleeves of Obito’s jacket desperately. Obito allows himself to be pulled down, their bodies pressing together in a sweet embrace, sounds of content leaving their lips as rapidly as their breaths.

Kakashi continues to shiver, the sky slowly fading into gold around them as traces of snow clings to their clothes. He slides his arms around Obito’s torso, slipping beneath his jacket in search for warmth. Kakashi’s skin flushes as Obito begins to kiss a trail down his neck, instinct and desire inserting themselves in the tips of his fingers that grip desperately onto Obito’s back. His body trembles in anticipation, longing for the heat Obito brings him, desperate to fall into another euphoric dream.

A soft cry escapes Kakashi’s lips as he feels Obito’s teeth sink into the side of his neck, the pressure subsiding just as quickly as it arrived. Kakashi succumbs to the feeling of Obito’s lips soothing his skin, sucking lightly, lovingly, a sensation that takes his breath away. Obito then pulls away, leaving light kisses over the coloring flesh before his hands travel to Kakashi’s hips. He rubs little circles into the bone before pressing their lower halves together, Kakashi gasping out at the sudden sensation.

Kakashi nearly loses his mind as Obito slowly grinds against him. He clutches Obito’s arms, deluded whispers heightening in pitch when Obito speeds up to an almost dizzying pace. _“Obito—”_ Kakashi barely manages to choke out as Obito grabs his ass, locking their lips to match their feverish rhythm. _“Don’t stop—”_ Kakashi lets out a cry as Obito hikes his legs around his waist, the burst of friction depriving him of his senses, sanity dripping away with every thorough roll of Obito’s hips.

The sun bathes their bodies in amber as Obito kisses him against the blankets. Kakashi’s eyes flutter shut, his entire body warm but restless, enchanted by Obito’s searing touches. His hands slide over the expanse of Obito’s back, tracing over the slight dips in his sides, digging lightly into the faint muscles beneath his fingertips. Obito’s own hands run up and down Kakashi’s thighs, deepening his thrusts as he breathes harshly against Kakashi’s lips.

Obito pulls away abruptly, deciding enough is enough as he grabs the extra blanket they had tossed aside. He fumbles to cover both their bodies with it, pausing to admire Kakashi’s skin under the honeyed glow of the sunset. It’s _stunning,_ Obito thinks. Kakashi is always so _stunning._

Kakashi reaches out for Obito when he finally returns, welcoming him back with another desperate kiss, the blanket slowly sinking around their bodies. They waste no more time in pushing garments aside, Obito immediately stripping Kakashi’s sweatpants away. Kakashi releases a blissful sigh as he spreads his freed legs, and Obito takes a moment to admire both the heat on Kakashi’s cheeks and the sight of his boyfriend in only a hoodie and boxers. Their eyes meet once more under the golden haze, and Obito melts as Kakashi gives him a besotted smile.

They kiss once more, slowly and gently as to revel in their intimacy. The world could fall apart at any moment, but they’d neither notice nor care, too consumed by their tangled embrace, by the raw taste of their love. Kakashi counts every beat of their hearts, holding the multiplying number close, addicted to the feeling of their bodies pressed so tightly together. 

Obito breaks the kiss to fumble with the button of his pants, and as soon as they pop off, Kakashi’s hands are there to push the interfering fabric out of the way. His boxers slip off with them, and Kakashi immediately takes Obito into his hand, giving his boyfriend a few slow strokes and shivering at the low breaths of pleasure Obito bathes his ear with. Their lips meet again, sloppier this time, only panting against each other as every last drip of their control leaks away.

Obito forces Kakashi’s hands away, unable to hold himself back as he quickly strips his boyfriend’s underwear away. He presses his lips against Kakashi’s neck and pushes a finger into him, Kakashi’s head lulling back as his body gradually relaxes.

Amber slowly mixes with ink as the sun begins to dip beneath the horizon, slivers of the fire a mere wink behind the clouds that curtain the atmosphere. It’s _breathtaking,_ Kakashi thinks. It’s the most _breathtaking_ sunset he’s ever seen. His breath hitches as Obito grazes his sweet spot, and Kakashi swallows, spreading his legs a little further to accommodate Obito’s touch.

 _Breathtaking._ Every second he spends with Obito is absolutely _breathtaking._

Kakashi’s fingers clench ever so slightly around the blanket beneath him as Obito pulls away, anticipation burning his veins. He catches Obito’s eyes with his, their hearts skipping at the innocent contact. Time seems to freeze, snowflakes suspended in the air like little stars.

Seconds flow again, and Kakashi laughs a little at the bits of white that cling to his boyfriend’s dark locks, reaching up and pulling Obito in to meet his lips in another sweet kiss. Obito takes this moment to push himself into Kakashi’s heat, the blanket slowly slipping off his shoulders and hanging to his lower back as Kakashi wraps his legs around his waist.

Obito bridges any space between them, sliding in and out of Kakashi at a hypnotic pace, moaning as Kakashi trembles desperately around him. _“So fucking beautiful,”_ he utters when Kakashi arches against the blanket, the sound of his whimpers further inspiring Obito's already racing heart. The world spins and spins around them at an intermittent speed, one that matches their shared breaths, the sweet whispers they share underneath the haze of the setting sun.

Kakashi throws his head back and lets out a cry as Obito’s thrusts deepen, his skin tingling in absolute delight. His heels dig into Obito’s back, urging him for _more,_ unable to think of anything but the feelings Obito showers him in. His hands begin to shake against the blanket, searching for an anchor through every wave of pleasure. Obito immediately takes his hands with his own, pressing Kakashi against the ground and sending him to new horizons with every rough snap of his hips. Kakashi’s fingers clench against Obito’s as his breaths heighten with the air around them, unable to control himself any longer and moving to match Obito’s delicious rhythm, lost in every intoxicating sensation.

He shivers as Obito takes him fully, skin dripping with the heat of their passion. Obito groans as Kakashi arches again, grabbing Kakashi’s legs and pushing them towards his chest, nearly folding him in half as he buries himself further. Kakashi writhes beneath him, stars bursting through his vision as Obito pushes and pulls him into high after high. 

_“Obito,”_ his name leaves Kakashi’s lips like a sinful wish, mind numbing with pleasure as Obito quickens his pace and steals his breath away. _“I love you,”_ Kakashi manages to whisper, moisture clinging to his lashes with the overwhelming sensations.

“I love you _more,”_ Obito immediately answers, closing his eyes and basking in the sound of his name rolling off of Kakashi’s tongue, the syllables broken with every abrupt thrust. Kakashi shakily reaches up, messily pressing their lips together before collapsing back against the blankets with a loud cry of his affections.

Obito dips down, burying his face into the crook of Kakashi’s neck and inhaling his scent, eyes closed as he commits the sweet aroma to his memory. His hands travel to Kakashi’s hips, gripping them tightly as he roughens his movements, a desperate attempt to cling onto the last bits of his sanity. Kakashi’s moans fill the air, Obito panting by his ear, the two unable to think of anything other than each other. He falls deeper and deeper, indulging himself in the taste of Kakashi’s dampened skin, his lips following every little shiver like pebbles skipping across a pond. 

Kakashi clutches at Obito’s back, fingers tightening into the fabric of his shirt as his heart beats furiously in his chest. All worries and fears are exhaled with every breath, Kakashi’s head lulling to the side as every thrust of Obito’s hips sends another shock of pleasure through every muscle of his body. He feels his legs begin to quiver as the blanket slowly slides away, but neither of them have enough sense to care.

Obito grabs his ankles and wraps them around his waist, pausing in his movements to gradually sit up. He heaves Kakashi onto his lap, kissing him deeply as his fingers press into the flesh of his trembling thighs, hips thrusting upwards in a sensual motion as he revels in the sounds of Kakashi’s breathless gasps. Kakashi loses every feeling in his body as he collapses forward, hands limply purchasing themselves on Obito’s shoulders. Their gazes meet in the heat of the moment, hearts syncing to the same revitalizing beat. Obito falls into a trance, leaning his forehead against Kakashi’s as they stare deeply into each other’s eyes, time slowing all around them and submerging them into a world that is only theirs.

Their lips lock in an instant, heads tilting in a balancing act that matches the passion they share. A million thoughts seem to be exchanged in those moments, a million feelings conveyed with every exhale. They part slowly, foreheads still pressed together as their eyes meet once more, unwavering, the sky around them blurring as the colors of the universe swirl through their irises.

 _“I love you,”_ they whisper together, surprise parting their lips before laughter spills with their silliness, their devoted expressions crystal reflections of one another. Kakashi pulls Obito in for another kiss as they fall back against the blankets, noir gradually diffusing through the sky as the first stars twinkle through the darkness.

Gradually, they come undone, their lips never leaving each other despite the tenderness of their sensitized skin. The heat sinks as the chill of the winter returns, their laughter mingling with the evening air once more when they see the bits of snow that cling to their hair, their clothes, _everywhere._

Obito rolls to the side as Kakashi moves to embrace him. They lie there, simply staring at each other in silence as their hearts struggle to settle in their chests. Kakashi’s hold around Obito tightens, and he hides his face in his neck, inhaling that familiar scent that brings him comfort even through the pain.

The memories then trickle in like the ashes of a cigarette, and reality sinks onto their shoulders.

Like a wave, every feeling comes and goes. The euphoria ends and so does the fantasy.

Tonight is their last night together.

Obito feels Kakashi trembling against him, and he is unable to do anything but hold him close, watching as their breaths travel through the air and into the infinite sky above. 


	23. Chapter 23

The morning comes and Obito feels his heart sink in his chest.

He blearily blinks through the haze of the light, slowly sitting up and taking in his surroundings. He rubs his hands over his face before allowing himself to stare back down at Kakashi’s sleeping form next to him, his boyfriend’s expression preciously undisturbed. Obito presses a kiss against Kakashi’s bare shoulder before sliding out of bed, collecting his clothes from the ground and sluggishly putting them on.

Obito exits Kakashi’s bedroom with a heavy sigh, squinting through the dimmed hallway and heading for the bathroom. He hears movement from the kitchen and glances over, catching Kakashi’s uncle eating at the table, the man observing him silently from behind his mug of coffee.

“Uh,” Obito awkwardly greets him with a slight bow of his head. Kakashi’s uncle merely raises his eyebrows in acknowledgement. “Did you give Genma his keys back?” Obito asks after a moment, absently scratching the back of his neck.

“I did, but not before taking his car out for a spin myself,” Kakashi’s uncle jokes with a slight grin. “Did Kakashi get any sleep?”

Obito stares back at the man, feeling a bit awkward under his observant eyes. “…Yes,” Obito answers, glancing away.

Kakashi’s uncle lets out an amused snort before he gestures to the seat across from him. “Take a seat, Obito. I need to talk to you about something.”

 _Oh, god,_ is the first thing Obito thinks, but he shakes the thought away and does as told. He’s still a bit out of it, almost sure that he’s only slept for an hour, but Obito tries his best to look as attentive as possible anyways. Kakashi’s uncle slips him a mint which Obito sheepishly takes, shoulders a bit stiff as he plops it into his mouth. Obito knows he shouldn’t feel so awkward around this man after knowing him for a year, but he can’t exactly help it.

“Kakashi will be leaving at 11,” Kakashi’s uncle finally says, and the atmosphere suddenly falls. “His parents are actually the ones picking him up. I would have preferred to accompany him to the facility myself…but it can’t be helped.” Obito’s jaw tenses with the news, an action that doesn’t go unnoticed by Kakashi’s uncle, the man letting out a deep sigh. “I’ll be honest, I don’t think they want to see you again.”

“I don’t want to see them either,” Obito utters before he can stop himself, a frown etched into his features.

Kakashi’s uncle smiles a little. “As much as I’d like to annoy them, too, I think it’s best we let Kakashi depart without any issues. It wouldn’t be good for him to leave on such a conflicting note.” Obito’s shoulders slump, acquiescing to the request with a defeated purse of his lips. “Have you two talked about what’s going to happen?”

Obito tenses. He can only shake his head in response, shame highlighting his features.

“I see,” Kakashi’s uncle utters. “You don’t have much time left. It’s better to figure things out now while you can still see him.” He then picks up his finished plate and heads to the sink without another word, leaving Obito alone at the dining table.

Obito’s eyes follow the older man for a moment before he lets out a sigh, glancing at the clock on the wall.

_7:47 AM._

They only have a little over three hours left together.

Obito immediately gets up, heading to the bathroom with heavy steps. He turns on the faucet and stares down at the running water, swallowing a lump down his throat before splashing his face with the cool liquid. Obito washes away any feelings of fatigue before slowly gazing up at the mirror, eyes meeting his own. Water drips from his bangs and clings to his nose, thin breaths escaping his lips. Anxiety begins to creep up in the creases of his expression, and he abruptly splashes his face with more water to break himself out of his trance.

He dries off and heads back to Kakashi’s room, carefully inching the door open as to avoid making too many noises before stepping inside. His efforts are futile, however, as his gaze meets Kakashi’s across the room.

Obito softens at the sight before him, Kakashi hugging his knees to his chest as Obito’s jacket hangs around his shoulders. He gives his boyfriend a smile in greeting, but Kakashi only looks away, and just like that, realization sinks into Obito’s chest at the same time his heart does.

_This is it._

“Don’t look at me like that,” Kakashi breaks the silence, a hint of a whine in his voice. “It’ll just make today harder than it already is.”

Obito gapes for a moment before smiling plainly, slowly approaching the bed and sitting on the edge by Kakashi’s side, hands in the pockets of his pants. “I was hoping you’d still be asleep,” he says, gazing at the wall on the other side of the room.

Kakashi peers over at him before leaning his chin against his knees. “I woke up when you left,” he confesses, Obito blinking in surprise. “I was going to come out, but then I heard you and uncle talking and…I changed my mind.”

“…I don’t think you were supposed to hear that,” Obito murmurs.

“Too late.”

Obito bites his lip, peering at Kakashi through his peripherals before letting out a sigh. “Should we finally talk about it, then?”

A bittersweet smile stains Kakashi’s lips. “Yeah,” he breathes out. “We should.” Kakashi pulls Obito’s jacket closer to his frame, looking almost impossibly small in that moment, Obito unable to do anything but wait for him to speak once more.

“Did you expect us to last?” Kakashi finally asks after a short silence. “Through it all?”

Obito’s fingers clench in his pockets, his tongue beginning to taste of ash as he swallows down his nerves. “I wanted us to,” he says, slowly moving to cross his arms over his chest, “but if I _expected_ us to…I can’t say.”

Kakashi nods his head in understanding, lips dried by his wry smile. “I can’t say either,” he utters. “It was something I always worried about. It was hard not to when both the voices in my head and everyone around us constantly told us we wouldn’t last.” Kakashi finally turns to look at him, their eyes meeting again as he asks next, _“Did we?”_

Obito inhales deeply, the question seeming to hold all the weight of the world. “I think we did,” he answers, sincerity in his voice despite his hesitance. He truly believes they lasted. After everything that’s happened, they’re still here, they’re still together. But that’s the present.

The future is unknown.

Kakashi seems to share his thoughts, his next question a shot through the dark that resonates through both of their heads.

_“Will we?”_

Obito can only tell him the truth.

_“I want us to.”_

Silence quells them.

Obito is sure that Kakashi can hear his heart beating in his chest.

“We won’t be able to see each other,” Kakashi finally says.

“It doesn’t matter,” Obito answers.

“I don’t even think I’ll be able to contact you.”

“I’ll just wait.”

“But you – _I_ don’t even know how long it’ll take.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Obito murmurs. “When I told you I’d never love anyone else as much as I love you, I meant it.”

Kakashi swallows, staring back at Obito carefully. “It isn’t fair to you.”

Obito smiles drily. “I’m used to things being unfair.”

“Then it isn’t fair to _me,”_ Kakashi says, and Obito pauses, blinking back at him with an unreadable expression. Kakashi bites his lip before allowing his gaze to fall, his fingers clutching to the collar of Obito’s jacket. “I’ll always feel like I’m constantly letting you down.”

Obito frowns, shifting closer to Kakashi with a look of concern. “It’s not like that, Kakashi,” he tries to reassure him, but Kakashi only shakes his head. “You won’t be, _trust me.”_

“But it _is_ like that, Obito,” Kakashi quietly tells him, sorrow evident in his eyes as he speaks. “There will be so many times where you’ll miss me…so many times where you’ll wish I’m there with you, but I won’t be. It’ll be the same for me with you.” Kakashi lets out a soft sigh. “I know it isn’t our faults, but…that doesn’t change the way it hurts.”

Obito shakes his head. “And ending things will somehow fix that problem?” he bluntly asks, unable to smother the bitter taste on his tongue.

“It won’t fix it,” Kakashi softly admits, “but it’ll make it hurt less.”

Obito is quiet for a moment. “I don’t see how it will.”

Kakashi lets out a shaky sigh, a sad smile on his lips as he turns to gaze back at Obito. “I’ll be going through a lot of treatments, Obito. If you’ve learned anything from the way medications can affect me, then you’ll know that I’ll be having a lot of trouble adjusting not only to my new life there, but with the effects of every pill, too.” Kakashi rubs his hands over his legs, soothing the tension in his skin. “Anxiety…depression… _paranoia._ They’re all very familiar things, but I have no doubt that they’ll be stronger this time, now that I’m forced to be away from everyone else. I’m already afraid that everyone will forget about me…that _you’ll_ forget about me…so just imagine how that would really feel with my physiology all screwed up.”

“I’d never forget about you, Kakashi,” Obito breathes out, almost desperately as he tries to reach for Kakashi’s hand, but the boy only pulls away, a pained smile on his lips.

“I don’t think you understand how hard that’ll be to believe when I’m all _alone,”_ Kakashi says with a quiet laugh. “Pair it with the treatments, with the voices, with the paranoia...it’s all going to hurt, Obito. It’s all going to hurt _so much.”_ Kakashi lets out a shaky breath. “I’ve already had so many doubts throughout our relationship. There were times where I thought you were using me. Other times, I didn’t even think you cared. I know those types of feelings may be relatively normal to others, but to me, they’re _amplified._ Every little doubt, every little insecurity feels real. Maybe you won’t forget me, maybe you’ll still be faithful, maybe you’ll still be _waiting,_ but I won’t have any way of knowing that. And as I go through my treatments, little hopes like that will blur really fast. Fear is such a strong emotion…I’ll have enough of it, and I don’t want to feel any more than I have to.”

Obito closes his eyes, each of Kakashi’s words feeling like a dagger to his heart. It’s almost as if the words they exchanged last night had never happened, but Obito understands that it’s different now. They finally have to face reality.

 _“I don’t know if I can let you go,”_ Obito rasps, his voice barely above a whisper.

Kakashi lowers his head, closing his eyes when they begin to sting. “You’ll be in a new city. You’ll meet new people. You’ll start a new life.”

“Those things mean _nothing_ if you aren’t there,” Obito utters, his own voice cracking as he attempts to hold back his own emotions.

“I _can’t_ be there,” Kakashi tells him, and Obito feels his teeth clench together, eyes closing as he wills his heart to calm down. Kakashi’s own chest feels like it’s collapsing in on itself, his breathing uneven as he shakily continues, “Holding onto me will only hold you _back,_ Obito. I know you don’t want to hear that kind of thing again, but it’s the truth. If all you do is worry about me, you’ll end up closing yourself off and returning to the life you once lived.”

“I’m _happier_ with you. Is that such a bad life?”

“It isn’t, but holding onto something from the past isn’t a life you should be living—”

“But Kakashi—”

 _“Please,_ Obito,” Kakashi whispers, his hands rubbing over his eyes. “I don’t want to fight over this.”

Obito swallows down his words, his shoulders slumping by his sides as he quiets down. His entire body _aches,_ pain throbbing in his chest, but he suppresses all urges to convey it.

“I…I know it’s going to be hard. It’ll be hard for me, too, Obito,” Kakashi finally says after a few moments, his own breathing seeming to have calmed down as he carefully glances back at Obito. “But I just want you to understand how I feel…Not only will I be afraid of what you might do while we’re apart, I’ll also be afraid of what might happen to you. I always worried about things like that…ever since I found about your father, I was always afraid that you would one day disappear. These are all things that I just can’t think about _anymore.”_ Kakashi’s head falls into his hands once more. “It’s too much to think about now…it’ll be even _worse_ over there.”

Obito tilts his head back, eyes blank as he stares up at the ceiling. “So what do you want?” he finally asks, the strain in his tone giving away his pain.

Kakashi sniffs, slowly lifting his gaze. “ _I need to focus on myself._ ” He blinks away the blur of the tears that threaten to fall, forcing them back as he adds in a whisper, _“And so do you.”_

Silence falls as Kakashi’s voice simmers between them. Obito can’t help the bitter smile that stretches across his lips, the words echoing through his mind like the hollow rumbles of a bass drum.

It hurts.

It all hurts _so fucking much._

Obito glances back at Kakashi, taking in the sight of the boy in his jacket, the boy who had stepped into his life almost as abruptly as he is about to leave it now.

How did such a boy manage to cut a scar so deep into Obito’s skin?

Obito has never met anyone else like Hatake Kakashi, and he’s sure he never will.

He closes his eyes, succumbing to this terrible game that is fate.

“I’ll do what you think is best for us,” Obito finally says, the words tasting of the smoke he once inhaled every morning.

Kakashi doesn’t look at him. He _can’t_ look at him. “You already know what I think is best for us.”

Obito slowly nods his head, a blank look in his eyes despite the thin smile that lifts his lips. “Then it’s settled,” is all he can say, and he glances back at Kakashi in time to see a tear slip from his lashes.

-

_10:30 AM._

Kakashi stares down at his luggage, unable to think as time slowly drains by. He lifts his head, gazing around his bedroom one final time. Kakashi had cleaned up the place for the first time in his life, his blankets folded on the foot of his bed, the remainder of his clothes neatly hung in his closet, all of his things tucked safely away in desks and shelves. Everything looks completely different, like he hadn’t spent an entire year in there, like the countless, sleepless nights never even happened. His eyes travel to the window by his bed, and like he has done so many times before, he walks to it, peering outside at the streets down below.

Then the sky up above.

Kakashi tugs Obito’s jacket closer, and he closes the curtains, the light of the morning disappearing with a flutter.

He steps outside his room with his bags in his hands. His uncle waits for him in the living room, the man watching him with what looks like sorrow in his eyes. Kakashi lets out a soft sigh and looks away, instead meeting Obito’s unreadable stare, the latter leaning back against the front door with his arms crossed over his chest.

Time continues to drip by, the air sinking further and further around them.

“Well,” Kakashi says, breaking the silence in the small apartment with a shaky smile, “I guess it’s time to say goodbye.” His voice cracks a little at the end, and he looks down, biting his lip as the finality of the situation sinks into his skin.

His uncle lets out a breath of a laugh, the man getting up from his place on the couch and approaching Kakashi with an arm spread out in invitation. “You always were terrible with goodbyes,” he murmurs as he pulls Kakashi into a tight embrace. “I still remember all the times you left without saying goodbye to me after your visits as a kid. Little brat breaking my heart even to this day.”

Kakashi drops his things onto the ground, wrapping his arms around his uncle and hugging him back just as tightly. “At least I’m saying it this time,” Kakashi quips, smiling a little when his uncle chuckles again. “It didn’t matter back then anyways…we visited you nearly every other month. But…this time…” Kakashi closes his eyes, “…it does matter.”

“Ah, so _dramatic,”_ his uncle says, pulling away and flicking Kakashi’s forehead. Kakashi blinks in surprise. “I’ll come to visit you. Even if they don’t let me in, I’ll stand at the window and stare at you.”

“What the hell?” Kakashi lets out a laugh despite himself, smacking his uncle’s arm. “I didn’t realize you were such a creepy uncle.”

His uncle snorts, stepping away with a grin. He places a firm hand on Kakashi’s shoulder, forcing the younger male to glance back up at him as his eyes suddenly turn serious. “Listen up, Hatake Kakashi. I know you aren’t used to listening to me, but I want you to anyways. Just this once.” His uncle waits for him to say anything, but Kakashi only stares. The man lets out a sound of amusement before continuing, “I know it’s going to be scary. I know it’s going to be hard. But I also know how _strong you are._ If there’s anyone who can take this world down through perseverance alone, it’s _you._ _You_ can do it, _you_ can get better.”

Kakashi’s lips part in surprise, eyes wavering in wonder. “Uncle—”

“I’m not finished yet, you brat,” his uncle says, flicking Kakashi’s forehead again. “Geez, you really don’t know how to listen to me, huh?”

Kakashi rubs his reddening forehead, trying to pout but unable to through the silly smile that stretches his lips.

His uncle smiles back, sincerity in his tone as he speaks, “I’m sorry I couldn’t do more to protect you, and I’m sorry that things didn’t turn out the way you wanted them to. But now that this is happening, I’ll only ask you to do one thing.” Kakashi watches in surprise as his uncle’s eyes suddenly begin to fill with tears, the man’s breath wavering ever so slightly. “When you finally get out of that hospital, the first thing you better do is march right over here and tell me that _you got better,”_ he orders, unblinking as tears slip down his cheeks. “You can tell me that it was hard, but only if you tell me you pushed through it all anyways, because you’re _Hatake Kakashi,_ and you’re better than all those voices in your head, better than all the things your parents like to call you, better than everything in this world that has ever hurt you. Show everyone who you are under your scars and prove to them all that you’ve healed. Show everyone that you’ve finally gotten _better.”_

Kakashi feels his lips tremble, his own eyes beginning to water as his uncle’s words sink into his heart. “U-Uncle…” he breathes out, but he can’t find piece his thoughts together, so overwhelmed by his uncle’s words that he can do nothing else but throw his arms around his neck, burying his face into the shoulder that had carried his burdens for so many years. _“Thank you,”_ Kakashi whispers, his hold tightening in an attempt to convey the true immensity of his gratitude. “Thank you for being there for me all these years. For taking care of me, for giving me a place to stay. Thank you, just _thank you_ for standing up for me, for believing in me even when my parents didn’t.” Kakashi pulls away, staring into his uncle’s eyes and laughing when he finds that both of them are crying foolishly. _“Thank you for letting me be me.”_

His uncle laughs, wiping away his tears and pressing a soft kiss against Kakashi’s forehead. “You don’t need to thank me for doing what family should do,” he says, brushing Kakashi’s hair out of his eyes and giving him a kind smile. “This isn’t a goodbye. I really will be coming out to visit you as often as they’ll allow me to, so save your tears for the boy who stole your heart,” he murmurs, giving Kakashi an encouraging pat on the shoulder. “Your parents will be here any minute now. I’ll wait for them outside and let you know when it’s time.” And just like that, his uncle departs, sending Kakashi one final reassuring smile.

Kakashi stands there, slightly dazed by his tears as he watches his uncle leave. Obito steps out of the way, allowing the man to exit without another word. Kakashi’s eyes then meet Obito’s, silence settling in the room as the door falls shut.

Neither knows what to say, much of what was needed to be addressed already spoken.

Kakashi’s mind wanders to their conversation that morning, his heart aching in his chest as he recalls the pain in Obito’s eyes, the strain in his own voice as he spoke the bitter truth. The rest of the morning had been relatively silent, the two merely sharing each other’s presence, alone to their own individual thoughts despite lying side by side.

Kakashi had thought about a lot of things.

He knows that Obito did, too.

Obito is the first to move, walking across the room and stopping only a few feet away from Kakashi, the short distance between them hurting more than either of them would like to admit.

Kakashi’s fingers fidget with the hem of Obito’s jacket, the action not going unnoticed by Obito.

“You want to keep that, don’t you?” Obito quietly asks him, Kakashi blinking in surprise. Obito continues to stare at him, expressionless, but his eyes are just as intense as they always are.

Kakashi lowers his head, lifting a sleeve and staring at the battered material, a fond smile lifting his lips. “I do,” he softly admits.

Obito nods, shoving his hands into his pockets as he looks away. “Then it’s yours.”

Kakashi glances back up at him. “Really?”

“Yeah,” Obito utters with a slight cough. “It’s ugly anyways.”

Kakashi grins, gently smoothing his hands over the sleeves. “It really is,” he agrees. “Thank you.”

Obito nods his head in acknowledgement, and he takes another step forward, catching Kakashi’s eyes with his. “How are you feeling?” he asks after a moment, his voice low enough for only him to hear.

“…Scared,” Kakashi answers, a bit sheepishly as he rubs his arms in an effort to comfort himself. “I’m going to the one place I never wanted to be, and I don’t know when I’ll come back out, but… _I’m tired of running.”_ He deeply inhales, shifting his weight from one foot to the other and giving Obito a sincere smile, the thoughts he had spent that morning pondering finally coming to light. “That’s all I’ve ever done. _Run._ But not this time.” He shakes his head, a certain glint in his eyes. “This time I’ll face everything. This time, _I’ll win.”_

Obito’s gaze softens, a smile of his own finding its way onto his lips. “Your uncle’s right,” he says. “You really could take the world down with determination alone.” 

Kakashi lets out a little laugh, his cheeks coloring a bit with the words. “He called it perseverance, actually.”

“Both, then,” Obito corrects himself, and Kakashi gives him a grateful grin.

It’s quiet again, a pair that once had a billion things to talk about suddenly finding none.

Obito’s stare suddenly sobers. _“I’m going to miss you, Kakashi,”_ he quietly says, his expression filled with such sadness it breaks both of their hearts.

The sincerity in his tone pangs in Kakashi’s chest. He slowly nods, smiling at Obito despite the dew on his lashes. “I’m going to miss you, too, Obito.” He lets out a shaky breath, a soft _fuck it_ escaping his lips before he reaches forward, quickly closing the distance between them and throwing his arms around Obito’s neck, pulling him into a tight embrace. _“I’m going to miss you so fucking much._ Thank you for everything, Obito. From last night to all our nights, _thank you._ For every chance you’ve ever given me, _thank you._ For every laugh, for every smile, for every little memory, _thank you.”_ Kakashi pulls away, gazing into Obito’s eyes, a breathtaking smile on his lips. “For loving me every day, _thank you.”_

Obito simpers, pulling Kakashi back in and savoring their embrace, arms locked around the other male, unwilling to let go. “I’d do it all for you all over again in a heartbeat,” he murmurs into Kakashi’s ear, feeling his own eyes begin to fill with tears. “Thank you, Kakashi. For showing me I actually meant something to this world. For being the only person to ever make me feel this way. For giving me a reason to keep pushing forward every day.” Obito lets out a deep breath. “Thank you, Kakashi, _for being you and being there for me.”_

They remain in each other’s arms as time drains by, neither willing to part as their hearts beat against their chests, yearning for each other’s touch once more. The silence is filled only by their own thoughts, a million words still unspoken but still understood through the warmth of their embrace. Kakashi feels Obito’s breaths against his nape, his body shivering at the familiar sensation. He closes his eyes, trying his best to memorize this moment, to memorize every word, every feeling, _everything_ that is Uchiha Obito.

The moment ends when Kakashi feels his phone vibrate in his pocket, and he knows what it means. Reluctantly, he pulls away, tenderly gazing into Obito’s eyes and giving the older male a reassuring smile despite the fear that fills his chest.

“They’re here,” Kakashi whispers, his fingers curling into the fabric of Obito’s shirt as he tells himself to hold back the rest of his tears. _“This is it.”_ He doesn’t wait for Obito to say anything, simply parting from his arms and turning to pick his bags back up from the ground.

He stops when he feels Obito’s hand on his wrist.

Kakashi slowly looks back up at him, swallowing a little at the blankness in Obito’s expression. Obito’s grip on his wrist tightens ever so slightly before he gently lets him go.

_“This goodbye isn’t forever, right?”_

Kakashi stares back at Obito in shock, the waver in Obito’s eyes seeming to convey his worries, his fears, his sorrows, his regrets. It pains Kakashi to see, to hear, the words so simple despite holding the weight of the world – _their_ world on its precarious syllables.

In a blink, Kakashi is suddenly taken back to the hospital room, to that hospital bed, and he is staring at Obito from across all the wires and machines, breathlessly falling in love _all over again_ under Obito’s moonstruck stare. He was a mess, _they were a mess,_ but they were still foolishly in love. Relief like that is matched only by the warm comfort of a home.

Obito is both of those things to Kakashi. The feelings he’s experienced with him are ones he’ll never forget.

 _That’s right,_ Kakashi thinks. They met like fools, they loved like fools, and together, they’ll leave like fools.

“I’ll tell you what, Uchiha Obito,” Kakashi finally says, a quirk in his lips as he stands back up, gazing into Obito’s eyes with a hand on his hip. “I’ll be here, getting better like my uncle wants me to. While I am, _you_ better be out _there,_ living the new life you always wanted – the new life _I_ always wanted for you.” Kakashi smiles when Obito gives him a curious expression, and he steps a little closer, their lips only breaths apart as he softly speaks, “When we’re both better _and_ happier… _that’s_ when we’ll see where we stand.” He presses a soft kiss against Obito’s cheek before slowly backing away, spinning on his heels and pulling his bags back up with a coy grin. “I won’t see you until then.”

When he turns back around, Obito is still only staring at him, lips slightly parted but with the same blank look in his eyes. Kakashi falters for a moment, wondering if he had stepped over some sort of line, only to hear Obito’s voice once more.

“Then this isn’t a goodbye,” is all he says, and there’s a smile on his face. A playful one.

A hopeful one.

Kakashi only shrugs, a teasing glint in his eyes. “That’s up to you,” he airily explains, lightly patting Obito’s shoulder as he passes by. “I think I’ll get better, but do you think you will? I’ll only see you if you do. Otherwise, this is a final goodbye. _Or,_ if you play your cards right…” Kakashi stops, glancing back at Obito over his shoulder with a soft smile, “it can be an…‘until next time,’ instead.”

Obito raises an eyebrow at the words, a bit suspicious as he slowly asks, “Is that a promise?”

Kakashi hums, tilting his head to the side in a contemplative manner. “Well, no. I think we’ve learned enough about promises, so…let’s consider it a _deal.”_ He gives him a wink. “That way we’ll both take it a little more seriously this time.”

Obito stares at Kakashi for a moment before a small smirk lifts his lips, and he steps towards Kakashi once more, pulling him into his arms and whispering into his ear, _“Until next time, then.”_ He then pulls away just as quickly, watching in silent amusement as Kakashi stumbles forward in surprise.

Kakashi straightens up, glancing back at Obito in a slight daze before he shakes himself out of it, the same playful smile lighting up his face. It crosses both of their minds, he’s sure of it. They’re fools in love still clinging onto the foolish hope that maybe they’ll see each other once more.

Uncertainties are never as scary to a fool.

Kakashi embraces it.

They stare at each other for a little while longer before Kakashi speaks again, his voice quiet but sincere, their time together finally coming to an end, “Good luck out there, Obito.” His eyes soften, and they convey the three, _foolish_ little words he cannot speak out loud, saying instead, _“I believe in you.”_

Obito hears them anyways, just like he always has.

_“I believe in you, too.”_

-

When Kakashi finally leaves his home for the last time, it feels as if the breath of his old life has been released from his lungs.

The door shuts behind him, and he glances back at it, eyes tracing the rusting frame as he allows nostalgia to hold him for just another minute. Kakashi lets his gaze wander, trailing up the fading bricks of the back of the frozen yogurt shop, over the windows, over the roof and to the sky just above.

Kakashi feels his hand twitch beside him, and he lifts it up, stretching his fingers out and covering the light of the sun. He can feel the warmth of its rays despite the whispering winds of winter, lips parting in quiet wonder at the anomalous sensation.

His fingers slowly close, but all he grasps at is air.

A second passes, and Kakashi slowly lowers his hand.

His gaze falls slightly, but he meets another pair of eyes, peering at him through his old bedroom window.

Obito sits by the ledge, gazing down at Kakashi through the glass and through the distance between them. Kakashi stares back at him curiously, neither able to move as they share their last moments together under the light of the morning.

A future of possibilities filters through their minds, and Obito nods up at the sky, a slight quirk in his brow. Kakashi isn’t sure if it’s a trick of the light, but he thinks he sees him wink, too.

Possibilities.

_The possibilities are endless._

They just have to be brave enough to reach them.

Kakashi slowly smiles back at the boy who stole his heart, lifting a hand over his head with a final wave of farewell.

Obito sends one back through his place in the window, a smile of gratitude gently lifting his lips as his own eyes never leave the boy who had changed his life.

Kakashi finally allows himself to look away, fingers clutching to the collar of Obito’s jacket as he breathes in his scent once more. He closes his eyes, allowing the past to fill his head one last time.

His skin tingles, and gradually, he lets it all go.

_(But he doesn’t forget.)_

When he opens his eyes, his vision is clear. His mind, quiet.

With a final smile, Kakashi turns around and takes their first step forward.


	24. Epilogue

In a bigger, bustling city, Obito somehow finds comfort in dissolving in between throngs of strangers, blurry eyes and nameless faces, all roving in the same ebb and flow across a wide intersection. He follows the current of turns, neglecting his sense of direction in favor of losing himself to the natural stream of the crowd. There is no sense of urgency in his steps, something light in his heels as he slips his hands into his pockets, the ease in his movements a subtle reminder of _freedom,_ the shackles around his wrists long forgotten in an empty home far, far away.

Life itself seems to have settled around him. His studies at the university aren’t particularly easy, but over time, Obito’s simply gotten used to his workload, growing out of his previous tendencies to slack off in favor of productivity. He has a home to go to and a stable income from a simple desk job on campus, the simplicity of his current life somewhat comical in comparison to his controversial past. Obito even tends to dissociate sometimes, almost as if placed on a surreal plane, the tamed waves of his current life giving him the time to breathe, to think, to reflect.

In some ways, Obito is a new person. He thinks before he speaks, he no longer lets his temper control him, and sometimes, he indulges himself in the future that waits for him. He doesn’t fear it anymore, he doesn’t fear _anything_ anymore. He allows himself to hope, to dream, to relish in the idea that he’s finally, _finally_ worth something.

But in many ways, Obito is still the same person. He still gets frustrated, easily aggravated by little things like too much noise or too much attention. He hates questions and holding conversations with people he couldn’t care less about, and sometimes, his hidden feelings of inferiority return to the surface of his mind, an awful reminder of what he once was and how he should never, ever let anyone else in. Obito still finds it difficult to trust others, preferring to remain as undisclosed as possible, for his story is one he never did like to share.

The scars of his past never quite fade. They’re always there, stinging stronger on some days, less on others. Sometimes he sees his father’s smile, the bruises on his sister’s skin, taste the ashes that always seemed to linger on his tongue. But as he did with his addiction, he learned to bite it all back, to endure the pain, and to finally move on. 

Obito thinks that above it all, he’s better now. When he breathes in, the air tastes fresh, his shoulders feel light, and his heart beats with something other than _fear._ Obito successfully pulled himself out of his old life, finally finding comfort in his own skin.

But moving on didn’t mean that the memories wouldn’t linger. A few sights, a few feelings, a few heartaches. Nostalgia, like all emotions, can’t be controlled. His mind unwittingly searches its depths for the lighter memories of a life he’s abandoned, and more often than not, it replays the same happy few. The same smile, the same laugh, the same pair of eyes that always stared so intently into his own.

Perhaps his feelings of nostalgia are what led him to accept the rather insistent invitation from an old friend. Obito had honestly been avoiding direct contact with his past, but he’s decided that he’s stalled long enough. He can’t say he’s completely moved on if he is still too afraid to confront the life he once lived. This, in a way, will help prove to Obito that he’s a new person.

Although, Obito would have much rather preferred his first blast from the past to be from someone a little more… _pleasant._

“You’re a real douchebag, you know that, right?”

Obito rolls his eyes, settling on the park bench beside his old friend, slightly breathless from walking for so long. “You’re already making me regret my decision to come and meet you,” he utters, gaze settling over the little lake ahead of them. “Be grateful I even decided to take the hike here from my place anyways.”

“Wow, I’m so sorry for inconveniencing you. It’s not like we haven’t seen each other in over two years or anything,” Genma spits, though his eyes hold no real hostility. He pulls out a box of cigarettes and lights one up, an image that arises certain memories within Obito, visions of the boy who spent his afternoons lying on a rooftop lifting a ghost of a smile on Obito’s lips .

Genma seems to notice his gaze, holding out the box in offering, but Obito only shakes his head. “Did you drag me out here just to bitch at me? Because if so, I’m leaving,” Obito states, leaning back against the bench and lazily inspecting Genma’s appearance. Genma hasn’t changed much, save for a cleaner haircut and smoother skin. He still wears the same prissy clothing, the same idle grin on his face, the male obviously still very proud of who he is despite the years that have gone by.

“Why do you always have to be so difficult?” Genma asks him instead of answering, smoke dispersing into the wind around them.

“I agreed to come, didn’t I?” Obito quips with a shrug of his shoulders, though they both know that Obito always did like to make Genma’s life difficult. Even speaking to him now, it feels as if nothing has changed to Obito. Like two years didn’t pass by and he and Genma, the delinquent and the class president, are simply sharing another dull smoke behind their old high school.

“You agreed to come after nearly months of me hounding you, asshole,” Genma retorts, fixing Obito with a glare. “You would think you’d treat your only friend in high school with a little more fucking respect, especially because he only wanted to see your stupid ass for old time’s sake on his _one_ visit to this city.”

Obito only snorts, more amused with Genma’s complaints than anything else. “Well, I’m sorry, _princess._ Next time I’ll make sure to give you a very special welcome from the bottom of my heart. Would you like a pumpkin carriage on your next visit, too?”

Genma glances at him in slight irritation before letting out a sigh, cigarette dangling between his fingertips. “Is there any particular reason you ignored all my attempts to contact you for so long? Ugh, you’re so frustrating I almost _gave up.”_

“I ignored them because I didn’t feel like being your stupid tour guide,” Obito retorts, crossing his arms over his chest as his gaze trails over the surface of the lake ahead. “I also figured that if you’re as annoying now as you were back in high school, I probably wouldn’t want to deal with you.” Obito’s eyes shift towards the side. “I was right.”

Genma lets out a scoff, shaking his head at Obito’s blatantly superficial answer. He knows that there’s more to it than simple laziness, but he respects the distance and lets it stay there. “It’s been over two years since we last saw each other and you’re _still_ a dick. Nice to know things haven’t changed.”

Obito smirks. “I just like pissing you off, that’s all.”

Genma rolls his eyes, a puff of smoke streaming from his lips as he gives Obito a watchful stare. “So how have things been for you over here?” he carefully asks, genuine curiosity evident in his tone. When they had finally said goodbye to each other all those years ago, Obito had left without a single clue of what to expect. Now that they’re here in the present, Obito having lived the life he had once been so uncertain about, Genma couldn’t help but wonder how his old friend has fared all this time. 

Obito is quiet for a moment, considering the rather loaded question carefully before he lifts his shoulders in a shrug. “Decent. _Way_ better than things were in that shit hole of a town, that’s for sure,” he finally answers, this being the first time he’s ever acknowledged such things out loud. “I’ll be graduating in a couple years with an okay job at my father’s company. It’s…not as easy as it sounds, but it’s definitely better than what I had back then.”

Genma hums. “Is your new daddy treating you well?” he crudely asks, snickering a little when he catches Obito’s annoyed stare in his peripherals.

“He hasn’t done anything _close_ to what the other asshole’s done, so I guess he is,” Obito returns, ignoring the smirk of amusement sent his way. He glances back at Genma, his own morbid curiosity getting the better of him, too. “What about over there? How have things been down in _hell on earth?”_

Genma pauses, returning Obito’s stare in slight intrigue. “The same as it’s always been,” is Genma’s answer, and Obito can’t say he didn’t expect it. “Though, after I graduated, I moved out to another city like you to study. But whenever I came back during breaks, there was always a new controversy buzzing around the town. I hear a new cult is rising, but honestly, I’m sick of hearing it all.” He lets out a sigh, giving Obito a meaningful look. “I told you, didn’t I? Things would never go stale there.”

Obito smiles thinly to himself, a strange sense of sentimentality settling in his heart despite his hatred for that town. It’s strange to feel this way, but a part of him kind of misses the chaos of it all. It was familiar, and though Obito lives relatively comfortably now, he still finds many parts of his new life unfamiliar. Perhaps that will change over time as well.

“Good to hear that life moves on, even over there,” Obito utters, and silence falls between them, the faint scent of smoke lingering in his nostrils as Genma snuffs out his cigarette. He gazes up at the afternoon sky, a rare clear blue despite the chilly autumn day. Something about the stillness of the sky reminds him of the same glowing stare of the moon, and the words fall from his lips before he can help himself, “How’s Kakashi?”

His name is almost taboo itself. Obito holds his breath, letting the breeze tickle his skin, reminding himself to never expect too much too soon. It makes the burden of disappointment weigh a little less in the end. 

Genma inhales deeply. For once, he seems hesitant to reply, and Obito’s fingers clench ever so slightly. He almost feels like a fool when he hears Genma’s careful answer, “I haven’t heard from him since his admission.”

The wind sways the trees around them, flakes of leaves snapping at their stems and swirling through the air in a mellow whisper. Obito’s shoulders fall as they do, despondency clear in the silence that hangs over his head. Genma senses his disenchantment but doesn’t say anything, simply waiting for Obito’s next move.

Obito knows it isn’t fair of him to be disappointed in such matters anyways. He has no idea what Kakashi may be going through, so Obito tries hard not to let the news affect the mood around them any further, biting back the bitter taste on his tongue and nodding his head in solemn understanding. When he glances up, he sees the lake again, and he has the urge to get up and walk. He needs to cool his head.

“We should go,” Obito says, glancing back at Genma before standing. “There are better places to be in this city than here.”

Genma quietly stares at Obito’s back, noting the tension in his shoulders before standing as well. “I thought you didn’t want to be my tour guide,” he lightly quips, hoping to clear the air a bit as he joins Obito’s side.

“I don’t, I’m just sick of the atmosphere here,” Obito murmurs, a low sigh escaping his lips as he begins to walk. “I could go for a burger or something anyways.”

Genma snorts but places a hand on Obito’s shoulder, successfully stopping Obito from walking any further as he pulls his phone out. “Hold on, before we leave, there’s something we need to do.”

Obito frowns in confusion, watching as Genma quietly taps at his phone. “Something?” he repeats, suspicion evident in his tone. He doesn’t quite trust the way Genma blatantly hides his screen from him.

Genma seems to hesitate for a second before he puts his phone away, turning to give Obito a small smile. “There’s this guy I know,” he suddenly begins, watching as Obito’s confusion grows, “and he’s on his way to meet us right now.”

Obito raises an eyebrow. _“Meet us?”_

“Yeah,” Genma says. “And…you know…he’s, well, uh, he’s single…and… _you’re_ single—”

“What the _fuck?”_ Obito stares incredulously back at Genma. “Why the fuck are you trying to set me up with some _prick—”_

“Look, I know how it sounds,” Genma quickly intervenes, lips twitching a little as he speaks, “but he’s really lonely and I know _you’re_ really lonely, so—”

“I’m not _lonely,_ you asshole, and I’m sure as hell _not_ desperate enough to agree to some blind _date,”_ Obito nearly growls. “Fuck, I should have known you had some weird idea in mind with how obnoxious your messages to see me were—”

Genma lets out a laugh, reaching out to pat Obito’s shoulder, but the latter simply flinches away in distaste. “Lighten up, dude. It’s been, what, two years since you last saw someone?”

Obito glares back at him, biting back the urge to correct him. “I’m not interested in whatever asshole you’ve decided to associate yourself with.”

Genma snorts, sending Obito a strange grin. “You’re right, I do hang with a bunch of assholes. You’re still the worst of the bunch, though.”

“An honor,” Obito sarcastically replies, turning to walk again but groaning when Genma grabs his arm. “Fuck you for trying to set me up with someone,” he spits as he glares at Genma again. “I don’t want to meet anyone.”

“Still as eloquent as ever, Uchiha Obito,” Genma amusedly says. “Fine, you don’t have to like this guy, but he’s still coming with us. Alright, drama queen?”

Obito suppresses the urge to groan. “Why the hell did you even think I’d be okay with this shit? If he’s coming, I’m _leaving.”_

Genma only shrugs his shoulders. “Figured you’d be lonely and tried to play wingman, but whatever. If you’re going to be such a dick about it then I’ll just have to show him a good time myself instead.”

Obito rolls his eyes. “Yeah, you do that then.” He crosses his arms over his chest impatiently, watching as Genma pulls his phone out again. “What’s this asshole like anyways?” he asks despite himself. “Another rich prick like you?”

Genma glances up at him briefly before smirking at his phone. “Rich? No. Prick? Maybe.” He slips the device back into his pocket before gesturing for Obito to follow him, the two slowly walking towards the park’s exit. “Little brat practically begged me to take him to Tokyo. It took forever to arrange things, and he barely did shit to help.”

“Sounds like a bitch.”

Genma’s lips twitch upward ever so slightly. “Well, he has some redeeming qualities,” he continues as they approach the gates. “He minds his own business, he’s actually smarter than most people, and most importantly, he’s _very_ easy on the eyes.”

“Of course that’s what matters to you.”

Genma ignores the comment. “He’s kind of whiny, kind of needy, a little crazy, but he’s cute all the same.”

“Sounds perfect for you,” Obito quips, shifting to lean back against the gates as Genma stands by the entrance, gazing at the streets outside. “Like a match made in heaven.”

Genma lets out a breath of amusement. “I guess you’re right. I should just keep him for myself.”

“Don’t know why you even bothered to think I’d be interested,” Obito utters truthfully, pulling his own phone out and gazing mindlessly at the screen as his mind wanders to nowhere in particular.

“Yeah, what was I thinking?” Genma sarcastically says, barely able to contain the smile that stretches across his lips. “Well, since you don’t even want to meet him, I guess I should just call it off with him. What do you think?”

“Just tell him to fuck off already, I want my burger,” Obito states, still absorbed in his phone as he carelessly waves the question off. He doesn’t catch the way Genma smirks.

“If you say so.” Genma snickers before turning towards the streets, a hand in the air as he shouts out, “Hey, _Kakashi!_ He said to fuck off!”

Obito’s phone nearly slips out of his hands.

“He’d rather get a burger than meet you, so…sorry!” Genma tauntingly continues, and Obito barely thinks as he pushes away from the wall, stumbling into Genma’s side and gazing blearily at the streets ahead. His eyes flitter from one face to the next, unable to recognize any as he searches for that name, that name his dreams stubbornly refused to let him forget.

 _There’s no way,_ Obito thinks. _There’s no way he’s here—_

“What?” comes his voice through the blur of it all, and Obito freezes, vision finally focusing on one person standing just on the other side of the entrance, the pair of eyes that kept him above the surface even as he drowned just as warm as Obito always remembered. Their gazes finally meet and Obito’s breath hitches in his throat.

Slowly, Kakashi smiles.

“A burger?” he says, his voice like the melody of a dream. “I came all the way over here just to be outmatched by a _burger?”_ His tone is light, teasing, his smile reminiscent of the jokes they used to share over the radio of Obito’s car. Kakashi shifts a little, fingers grazing the collar of the jacket he wears, and it only takes Obito seconds to recognize it as his.

There is no doubt in his mind then.

Kakashi is back.

And Obito wants nothing more than to take him in his arms again.

Obito opens his mouth to speak, eyes dilating at the mere sight of his former lover when Genma shoves him to the side, a goading smirk on his lips that Obito doesn’t really process through his daze. Kakashi’s eyes shift from Obito to Genma, the two sharing a knowing look.

Genma’s grin is smug as he cockily says, “Yeah, and Obito said you and I sounded perfect together, like _a match made in heaven.”_

Kakashi returns the look with a small smile of his own before gazing back at Obito in feigned intrigue. “Is that so?”

Obito is sure he looks ridiculous, gaping stupidly at the display before him, his mind barely able to keep up with this sudden whirl of events. _“Kakashi,”_ is all he’s really able to say, and he steps forward desperately, but Genma holds a hand out and stops him.

“He’s mine now,” Genma sneers, slinging an arm over Kakashi’s shoulders.

Obito snaps out of his daze and glares back at Genma, annoyed. “Fuck off.”

Genma gasps as if he’s offended. “You literally said you weren’t interested in whatever asshole I decided to set you up with!”

Obito feels his forehead throb in irritation. “You didn’t mention that the asshole you were setting me up with was _Kakashi!”_

Genma only shrugs his shoulders, a pleased smile on his lips. “Not my problem.”

“I’m hurt, Obito. You didn’t even give me a chance,” Kakashi says with a pout, and Obito shifts his gaze onto him, his heart immediately picking up in his chest at the mere sight of his former lover. He can’t believe this is even real. 

“For fuck’s sake,” Obito utters, stepping forward once more, and this time Genma actually moves out of the way, giving the two some space with a small smile. “What are you _doing_ here, Kakashi?” Obito breathes out as he instinctively reaches out to cup Kakashi’s cheeks, the contact sparking his fingertips with memories of all the nights they’d spent together, every loving touch stirring his heart with rekindled affection.

Kakashi immediately settles his own hands over Obito’s, his smile just as gentle as it’s always been. “I told you I’d come to see you again when things finally got better,” Kakashi whispers, and Obito’s eyes soften at his words, Kakashi’s voice bringing a familiar comfort he had dearly missed. “Though, apparently you didn’t want to see _me,”_ he playfully says, pulling away from Obito’s grasp with a teasing smile. “All that hard work for _nothing.”_

Obito ignores the banter and asks instead, “How did you get here…How did you _find_ me?”

Kakashi opens his mouth to speak, only to be cut off by Genma’s petulant remark, “It was all _me,_ jackass, and you better be fucking _grateful.”_

Obito only glares back at Genma, and Kakashi lets out a little laugh at the childish display, deciding to appease Genma’s impatience. “This really was all thanks to Genma. As soon as I was discharged from the facility, I knew right away that I wanted to see you again. I wanted to surprise you somehow, but I didn’t know where you were or how I’d even get to you. Luckily enough, Genma was already planning to visit Tokyo himself, so I asked him if he could somehow take me to see you, too.”

“And I was nice enough to agree, but our plans were almost ruined because _someone_ didn’t want to answer my messages,” Genma utters, crossing his arms over his chest as he glares pointedly at Obito. “Can you believe the guy, Kakashi? Idiot almost missed the chance to see the love of his fucking life again because he was too much of an ass to respond to me.”

Obito glares at Genma a little while longer before turning his gaze onto Kakashi. “Why is he still here?”

Genma sneers. _“Asshole.”_

Kakashi laughs again, taking Obito’s hand in his but turning and giving Genma a grateful smile. “Thanks, Genma. I’ll meet you back at the hotel?”

“Yeah, whatever,” Genma dismissively says, reaching out and ruffling Kakashi’s hair in an affectionate manner. “Just make sure you get Obito his burger. He’s being a real prick about it.” He then waves a hand in departure, leaving the park with a low whistle, the former couple left to their own devices by the gates.

Things are quiet between them as Kakashi turns to gaze at Obito once more, and the two of them take the time to indulge in their developments over the years.

Somehow, some way, Kakashi manages to look even more beautiful than Obito remembers. Perhaps it’s the relaxed smile that lifts his lips, the neatness of his hair, the dashes of pink that color his cheeks. Or perhaps it’s the undeniable focus in his gaze, skin that used to be so sickly pale in the past now harboring a lively glow, his posture no longer slouched and uncertain, but straight and filled with what Obito can only describe as _life._

There is no denying it.

Kakashi has finally healed.

“Your stare is always so intense,” Kakashi suddenly says, his gaze a bit sheepish as he pulls Obito from his thoughts. “Even back then…it was always like you were looking right through me.”

“Sorry,” Obito breathes out, still unable to take his eyes off of Kakashi’s brightened features. “I just…I still can’t believe this is real.”

“Honestly? Me neither,” Kakashi admits, reaching up and gingerly tracing Obito’s jaw with gentle fingers. “You look good,” he whispers, a coy smile teasing his lips. “Some may even say you look handsome.” 

Obito can’t help but grin as he leans into Kakashi’s warm touch. “Some may say the same about you.”

Kakashi lets out a soft chuckle, clearly more than pleased with the compliment. “I’m glad you’re all cleaned up now. You used to run around looking like you just rolled out of a garbage truck. How gross.”

Obito laughs. “And you liked me anyways.”

“I always did have low standards,” Kakashi playfully quips, draping his arms over Obito’s shoulders and pulling him into a long awaited hug, a deep sigh of relief escaping his lips. Obito closes his eyes, his own arms encircling Kakashi’s waist as they mold into their embrace, the feeling of having Kakashi in his arms again almost as liberating as the day they shared their first kiss years ago. Obito’s heart stirs with the memories, and he slowly pulls away, gazing deeply into Kakashi’s eyes as he reaches up, gently brushing Kakashi’s bangs out of his lashes. Kakashi’s fingers move to Obito’s face again, entranced, almost, as he delicately traces his cheeks with a feather’s grace. Neither really knows what to say, sentiment conveyed through the tenderness of their touches, and Obito’s gaze falls to Kakashi’s attire, a small smile finding its way onto his lips.

“You still have that jacket,” Obito lightly comments, his hands dropping to smooth over the tattered fabric of the sleeves. “I thought you would have thrown it away by now.”

Kakashi grins, fiddling with the collar, almost as if he’s proud of it. “Now why would I throw away the only gift my boyfriend ever gave me?”

Obito raises an eyebrow in slight surprise. “Was that really all I ever gave you?”

Kakashi only shrugs, clearly unbothered as he pulls Obito closer. “I never got you a gift either. Not even for your birthday.”

“Huh.” Obito clicks his tongue. “We’re horrible people.”

Kakashi gives Obito an amused look. “I didn’t care for gifts anyways. You were always enough.” He pauses for a moment before asking, “How’s Izumi?”

Obito’s eyes soften at the mention of his sister, unable to fight the smile that works its way onto his face. “She’s doing great,” he answers, watching as Kakashi’s own gaze warms. “She’ll be entering high school next year with a good group of friends. Smart girl, actually. Hard to believe she’s related to me. She even talks about how she wants to be a teacher one day.”

Kakashi simpers. “I’m glad she’s recovered. Maybe she’ll have more fun in high school than we did.”

Obito lets out a soft chuckle of agreement. “You know, I think she’d really like to see you again,” Obito says, traces of excitement in his tone as Kakashi gives him a look of interest. “She used to always ask me if you were released from the hospital already, but I never had an answer for her. Maybe we should give her a surprise visit later today.”

Kakashi grins. “I’d love to see her again. I honestly didn’t think she’d remember me.”

“Of course she does,” Obito reassures him. “You aren’t an easy person to forget.” Kakashi gives him a somewhat shy look, eyes swimming with quiet affection. “How about you?” Obito asks him, and Kakashi perks up in curiosity. “How’s your uncle and brother?”

Kakashi tilts his head to the side, contemplating the question before shrugging his shoulders. “Uncle found a new girlfriend who could tolerate his strange sense of humor. She makes really good cookies, too. On the other hand, Sukea started taking online classes about a year ago, programming or something. And…he kind of lives with us now.” Kakashi purses his lips. “It’s a long story, honestly. Strange, too, but…I’m happy. I came home to a real family.”

Obito’s gaze softens with the words, and he decides then to ask the question that always lingered in his mind throughout the time they’ve spent apart, “How have you been holding up?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Kakashi asks him in slight amusement. “I’m doing well, actually. Though, I was only released a few months ago, so I’m still getting used to living a normal life again. It’s a bit complicated, but I’m definitely better than I was before. I can…I can finally hear myself…” Kakashi trails off, something passing through his eyes before he gives Obito a small smile. “And how are you doing? You and your big city life?”

“I’m doing okay, too,” Obito admits, pulling Kakashi a little closer. “Believe it or not, the kid voted most likely to drop out of high school actually has a future.”

Kakashi lets out a soft laugh. “Wow, how impressive.”

“Mm,” Obito hums, “things are okay, but I’m doing even better now that you’re here with me.” He rests his head on Kakashi’s shoulder, breathing in his sweet scent and exhaling a sigh of relief, the familiarity of Kakashi’s warmth comforting the longing in his soul. _“I missed you so much.”_

“Missed me? Even after all this time you’re still _this_ crazy for me?” Kakashi teases with a soft giggle. “You’d think you’d learn to move on.”

“Tried to,” Obito utters, lips just barely grazing Kakashi’s skin. “Failed to. Missed you.” He pauses. _“Still in love with you.”_

Kakashi seems to tense with his confession, swallowing as Obito’s breath tickles his ear. He slowly pulls away, a bit sheepish as he gazes back at all the people passing by. Obito continues to stare at him, a yearning look in his eyes as he attempts to close the distance once more, but Kakashi places a hand on his chest with a slight shake of his head.

“Still in love with me, huh?” Kakashi quietly repeats, tone a bit off as he stares expressionlessly back at Obito.

“Hopelessly,” Obito doesn’t hesitate to say. “If all the dreams I had of you mean anything, I never stopped.”

Kakashi flushes ever so slightly, somewhat embarrassed by Obito’s words as he averts his gaze. “Well, aren’t you bold?” He looks down, uncharacteristically quiet.

Obito notices his hesitance but smiles anyways. A whisper of their last conversation echoes within his mind, and he’s determined to hold on. He won’t let things end there. “So where do we stand?” he asks, and Kakashi glances up at him in surprise. “You’re here now. We’re both better than we were before. You said it yourself, we’d see where we stand the next time we meet.”

Kakashi’s eyes seem to flash in recollection, his lips curling upward ever so slightly as he considers Obito’s words. “I don’t know,” he says. “Where do you think we stand?”

“Well, I’m still in love with you,” Obito tells him again.

Kakashi rolls his eyes in a playful manner. “We haven’t seen each other in over two years, Obito. You _think_ you’re still in love with me, but we’re practically two different people now.”

Obito doesn’t let his words faze him. “What about you?” he quietly asks, watching as Kakashi’s eyes waver ever so slightly when they meet his. “How do you feel about me?”

Kakashi’s gaze falls to the ground, and for a moment Obito feels his resolve stutter. Time truly seems to expand before them, displaying the amount of minutes, hours, days, _years_ they’ve spent apart, and in those fragile seconds, Kakashi really does look like a different person. It’s good in some aspects, unfamiliar in others. But to Obito, despite it all, Kakashi is still the same Kakashi he fell in love with. No amount of time can take that away from him.

Besides, he wouldn’t mind getting to know this _new_ Kakashi, either.

“Two years…” Kakashi finally utters, his voice pulling Obito from his thoughts. “I thought it would be silly to say after so long…but I…I think I’m still in love with you, too,” he confesses, sincerity in his tone despite the sheepish smile that stretches his lips. “You were all I could think about as soon as I left the facility. I wanted so badly to come and see you, to hold you, to kiss you…” His voice wavers ever so slightly as he speaks, and when he blinks, his eyes shimmer with dew. “I was scared you might have forgotten about me…scared that you wouldn’t feel the same way when you saw me again. So much time has gone by…I just didn’t know if I was being an idiot and living in the past by holding onto my feelings for you…but…I guess I should have known,” he finishes with a little laugh, taking Obito’s hand in his as he stares deeply into his eyes, “You never really were the type to let things go so easily.”

Obito grins in quiet agreement, bringing Kakashi’s hand to his lips. “I would never forget the only person to ever make me feel this way,” he whispers, and Kakashi smiles, moving to embrace Obito once more. “So where do we stand?” Obito asks him again when they part, and Kakashi’s eyes sparkle as they meet his.

 _“Together,”_ Kakashi answers, a sense of confidence in his eyes that Obito has never seen before. “Like we always did, we stand _together.”_

Obito grins, his cheeks warming as he gently brushes his fingers through Kakashi’s hair once more. “Should we do it, then? Should we run away together like we always dreamed?” he teases, loving the sound of him and Kakashi _together again,_ against all odds.

Kakashi leans into Obito’s touch with a soft shake of his head, his eyes dancing with a thousand stars. _“I don’t want to run anymore,”_ he quietly says, his voice like a key that liberates them both.

Obito’s hold around Kakashi’s waist tightens. He sees the future as he stares into his eyes. “Then _stay with me, Kakashi,”_ he tenderly whispers, the words taking both their breaths away. “Let’s live the life we’ve always wanted.”

Kakashi melts, something about the proposal strangely intimate, his heart fluttering in his chest at the mere prospect of a future together. He doesn’t think as he wraps his arms around Obito’s neck, leaning in as if to kiss him when again, his hesitance returns.

Dashes of anxiety trail over his skin as he lingers on the past, every fight, every scream, every little tear that dripped from his lashes pulling him away. The worries of _still_ not being good enough creep into his head, straining his heart, his chest feeling as if it’s caving in.

Kakashi’s reminded then that he doesn’t know anything about the real world. Not really, at least. More than two years of his life had been spent between the same four walls, inexperienced, uneducated, and yet here he is, thinking he actually has something to offer Obito.

Maybe he still isn’t strong enough. Maybe what he feels for Obito is only infatuation, a byproduct of the adrenaline produced from seeing him again after so long. Maybe they should leave what they had in the past because maybe it’ll be better that way. Their lives had torn them apart so many times before, _how would it be any different now?_

Kakashi’s breath leaves his lips, a wordless whisper of his doubts, the _fears_ that never quite go away.

Obito senses his worries and smiles.

He swipes his thumb across Kakashi’s cheek, the motion so simple but comforting, like a warm touch through the darkness. Kakashi blinks, and Obito watches his eyes for a moment before carefully leaning their foreheads together. _Two years,_ he thinks, and he decides he can’t wait any longer.

 _“Coward,”_ is all Obito whispers, and when Kakashi doesn’t pull away, he finally closes the distance between their lips.

Nothing else can ever feel so right.

It’s as if the world is in Obito’s hands as he holds Kakashi close, exchanging breaths that sing a song they both know well, a song that comes as a saving grace to Kakashi’s pesky little insecurities. Kakashi then remembers what it’s like to feel safe, to feel secure, to feel _in_ _love,_ feelings he only ever experienced with the man who always kissed him despite his many scars.

He kisses Obito back, and just like that, their worlds tie together again.

When they part, it feels as if an old promise has finally been fulfilled.

Obito’s smile grows so wide he can feel his cheeks beginning to ache, and Kakashi gives him a bashful simper in return, the two feeling so _silly,_ so _young,_ so ready for the life that awaits them, knowing that things will be better now, _they will be happier_ now that they finally, _finally_ have each other.

Obito’s gaze drifts towards the sky for a moment, the blue that once seemed untouched now accompanied by a pair of clouds lingering by the sun.

“We did it,” he hears, and Obito glances back down at his boyfriend in surprise, Kakashi’s eyes glowing with a spark reminiscent of their old lives. _“We reached it.”_

Obito blinks, and he steps back a bit. But this time, Kakashi doesn’t hesitate to follow.

“Yeah,” Obito breathes out, a small smile on his lips as he reaches for Kakashi’s hand, their fingers linking together as naturally as the breeze that brushes their skin. “We really did.”

When they walk, they walk together, hand in hand to a life that is warmer, kinder to people like them. They can’t predict where this new beginning will lead them, but they’ve decided to stop guessing and to simply _keep going._

Obito’s hand is warm as he holds onto Kakashi’s, guiding him into a city of faces they will never remember, names they will never learn, and stories they will never hear.

They fade into the flow of the crowd, becoming one with this world they always dreamed of reaching. They, too, lose their faces, their names, and to everyone else, Obito and Kakashi become nothing more but another pair of strangers on a street that never ends, their steps but a quiet echo of a story that only they will ever know.

That story ends and a new one begins.

This one, they’ll write together.

  
  


* * *

**Unnecessarily long author’s note:**

I have a lot to say about all of these, so, uh, prepare yourself if you really want to read this crap LOL This fic really means a lot to me. I spent a very long time putting the characters and plot together, and an even longer time writing the fic entirely, so I felt it wouldn’t hurt to at least talk about the story at the end of it all. But before I begin I feel like I should probably disclaim right now that I’m far from an expert on any of the topics I’m about to talk about. These are just my personal feelings of course. 

I know I put Obito and Kakashi in a lot of extreme situations. Obito essentially had to take care of himself and Izumi while Kakashi had to struggle with his schizophrenia almost entirely by himself as well. All this, _and_ they’re only in high school. They really only had one goal, to graduate, but even that felt impossible to them. Like I’ve mentioned before, I started this fic because I wanted to write a story that showed the issues teenagers face are very _real._ Things like mental illness and other hardships are not limited to age. There are so many kids who never get the help they need because the adults keep belittling their conditions and act like their feelings don’t matter. Kakashi in this fic is an obvious product of this message, as he never received the help he needed because his parents refused to believe that there was actually something wrong with him. Obito, too, displays this, because their town often wrote him off as your average delinquent pining for attention. And because of that, he wasn’t able to see himself as anything but. While writing this fic, I really wanted to show how _unfair_ this treatment is. They’re young, yes, but that doesn’t change the fact that what they faced was _real,_ what they felt was _real._ Unfortunately, stories and feelings like theirs are often overlooked.

Moving on, I also wrote this fic with the intentions of conveying what I thought healthy relationships looked like. There were the relationships between Obito and Izumi, Obito and Genma, Kakashi and his uncle, Kakashi and Sukea, and of course, Obito and Kakashi. Their fight in the first chapter...It was supposed to be comedic, of course, but it was also supposed to set the tone for their relationship. Both Obito and Kakashi never backed down from their fights or from any other setbacks in their relationship despite the personal struggles they each faced. With this came a sense of mutual respect. They respected each other’s feelings and issues and dreams, and they were always mindful to have each other’s best interests in mind. I don’t think either of them was ever selfish when it came to each other. Obito let Kakashi make his own decisions and vice versa. Besides that, they also acted as emotional supports to one another. Kakashi gave Obito a safe place to vent his emotions. Obito was always willing to listen to what Kakashi had to say. They encouraged each other to come out of their shells, and many of their fights were resolved because they actually _communicated._ Of course, their last fight was one big miscommunication, but in the end they both realized their mistakes. I hope that people were able to see that in this fic. They weren’t a perfect couple of course, but...they were good for each other, and that’s enough.

The last topic I focused on was the topic of growing up. It was a challenge to convey because, well, I’m still growing up, but I tried my best anyways LOL. Above it all, their goal was to graduate together in the end. Unfortunately, Kakashi never achieved that goal, but that didn’t mean he didn’t mature. The entire fic is of their journey to maturity, both starting out extremely flawed in their own ways. Both of them barely acknowledged their pasts and their solutions to most of their problems were to just... _run away._ This fic was supposed to summarize these flaws, because every time they ran away from their problems, they stepped further and further away from their ultimate goals of happiness and whatnot. It wasn’t until towards the end that they really began to face their problems head on. Obito confronted his parents, Kakashi decided to get the help he needed. In the end, they grew up, which included having to let go of each other. While I loved their relationship, they had to learn to be without each other and to grow as individuals. That independence in the end was supposed to encompass the fact that they both finally grew up. And then there was the epilogue, where they finally meet again after overcoming their own obstacles. They both matured in their own ways, and finally they were able to reach that happy future that had always felt so far away _._

Honestly, I can rant about my feelings towards this fic all day, but I’ll just stop there. Now I’ll take the time to just...thank everyone. For everything. Because truthfully, I was a bit scared to write this fic. For multiple reasons. My first fic in this fandom, a high school AU that would barely have anything to do with canon, I was honestly afraid that no one would bother to look at it LOL. And then there was the fact that I knew I’d be writing about sensitive topics like abuse and mental health, so I knew I had to be careful every time I addressed these. 

Over 200 thousand words in five months. I know how overwhelming this is to read, just imagine what it was like to write it LOL I never would have been able to write all of this without your encouraging comments. Often times while writing this fic, I was afraid that I might have been crossing some lines or just...not making any sense at all. But while reading comments and seeing that everyone was feeling the things I was trying to convey, I felt _relieved._ And happy, because it felt like my writing meant something. Like I was doing something right. I probably would have chickened out of writing a fic this big if it weren’t for the endless support, so really, thank you all for your support _._ It really does mean a lot to me. I don’t know when or if I’ll ever write a fic this big again, but whatever happens, do know that I am truly grateful for this experience. So I guess...let me know what you thought about the fic? <3


	25. Uncle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kakashi's uncle watches as his nephew falls for the boy without a future.

The town treated the boy like a blight.

His name is Uchiha Obito. He’s the son of a woman who left the town a few years ago and another man no one knows, but he certainly isn’t the son of the man he continues to call father.

When Obito’s mother left, so did his smile. Obito would pick fights with other students and was often caught skipping school.

He has no future, they would all say.

I was always wary of Uchiha Obito. The stories about the boy who broke a classmate’s leg for calling him a bastard were enough to keep me cautious. But when that boy suddenly entered the shop with nothing in his hands but the bag over his shoulder and the worn cigarette box peeking from his pockets, something seemed to change.

He was looking for my nephew.

I knew that Kakashi always did have a tendency to hang out with bad crowds. I couldn’t help the animosity I first felt when Obito first stepped through those doors, but only after moments of observing the boy, the uncertainty in his expression, the restlessness in his shoulders, the genuine concern in his eyes, I thought that perhaps he was more than just another boy looking for trouble.

Kakashi had spent most of that week in his room. I’m still not sure what drew me to do it, but I soon found myself handing Obito the very keys that he needed, hoping that maybe, just maybe this boy that the town would always call worthless could somehow draw Kakashi out into the daylight once more. 

One visit soon became two. Then three. Then four and five, and I ended up seeing Obito around the shop more often than we ever had customers. Curiously, I’d watch as Obito would drop by on the weekends, sometimes with his little sister, sometimes by himself, but he was always there with the same intentions.

_Is Kakashi here?_

_No, he isn’t._

_When will he be back?_

I wasn’t sure back then how much my nephew had already told Obito about his situation. So I would always tell Obito to come back the next day.

And without question, he would.

_Uncle,_ Kakashi came to me one evening. _I have a boyfriend now._

 _Oh?_ I said. _What’s his name?_ I was certain I already knew the answer.

 _Actually,_ Kakashi’s cheeks were the color of roses that afternoon, _it’s Obito._

The smile on his face was enough to quiet my worries.

Days, weeks, months passed by. Obito became a constant presence in the shop.

It didn’t take long for me to realize how much Kakashi meant to Obito.

Nor did it take long for me to realize how much _Obito_ meant to _Kakashi._

It all dawned on me the day my nephew showed us his scars, yet only opened the door when Obito knocked on it.

They’re kids, I thought. Yet their love was stronger than those who looked down on them.

_How is he?_ Obito would always ask me when he’d enter the room. The sounds of Kakashi’s heart rate on the monitor usually blurred into the background, but whenever Obito returned, it always seemed to get louder.

The answers were never clear, but Obito would simply nod, hiding his frustrations and instead taking his place by Kakashi’s side, never letting go of his hand, breathing sweet nothings, counting the beat of his monitor, and hoping for a miracle to happen, just this once.

I wondered then how the kid who stirred up an entire town for years could be the same exact one treating my nephew with so much care. The gentle brushes against his skin, the soft kisses pressed against his palm, the little prayers whispered beneath his breath.

When Kakashi finally did wake up for the first time, he had uttered a single name.

_Obito._

The sun had just begun to rise.

I remember when Obito dropped by the shop only a few days before he was meant to move to the city.

 _Thank you,_ he said to me, _for everything._

I should have thanked him back then, but I didn’t, because everything about his words sounded like a goodbye.

I couldn’t say such a thing back. A part of me knew I would see him again.

_Uncle,_ Kakashi said after every embrace and every story had been shared, _how is he?_

 _If he’s anything like the boy he was two years ago,_ I told him, _he’s still waiting for you._

_Uncle,_ Kakashi says into the phone one winter evening, _I think I want to stay with him._

It’s hard to let them go.

But it’s alright this time.

I think I'll have to thank Obito.

For everything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was going to post this drabble a week after the epilogue but I got really busy and completely forgot LOL
> 
> Thank you once again for reading, enjoying, and perhaps even loving Falling Stars. Writing this fic truly was such a great experience and every feedback filled my heart with happiness. I really appreciate all the kudos and the heartfelt comments you all have left on this fic. Thank you so much!! <3


End file.
